


This World I Take

by pinchthatcurestheitch



Series: The Fall of the Fourth God [1]
Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Bromance, F/M, Knifeplay, Medicine, Plot, Recreational Drug Use, Rough Sex, Self Harm, Sexual Content, Stalking, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-09
Updated: 2013-12-07
Packaged: 2017-12-07 23:56:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 34
Words: 84,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/754578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinchthatcurestheitch/pseuds/pinchthatcurestheitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Your dying world is coming to its end. And your pathetic race that lies and destroys itself to be the last survivors in a world of cold and ash; that is what is ending it. The illusion of freedom that you strive for only kills you faster, it makes you brutal, merciless and pushes you to do worse, and to be worse; to be the last rats alive on the sinking ship. That is why you must be controlled, you must be guided, and those who disobey must be punished, most severely. Without control you turn into such vile things, and only the vilest can survive.”</p>
<p>Set one year after the events of the Avengers, Loki returns to earth with plans of forming a new army and creating a great weapon. Meanwhile, Tony Stark is bored, and a bored Tony Stark is a dangerous thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue - Strangers on a Train

### Strangers on a Train

10:37, and the train powered through the urban decay. Great arching, sighing concrete towers, a testament to the segregation of the poor from the rich. Slums were still slums, even if they stretched into the sky. A tall, black haired man stared calmly from the back of the carriage. One step forward and he would be caught on the posterior carriage camera, one to the left and he was within the scope of the camera focused on the vestibule. Not fully visible, but enough to be seen if someone was really looking for him, and he didn't want to be found. Not yet.

A man walked towards him as the train pulled into the next station. A tall man like himself, well-built but poorly dressed with scruffy old trainers; he wasn't worth keeping. The next in line was a greying man in a three piece suit. His face was clean shaven and he carried a briefcase, with an ID badge hanging from the side, with the words ‘Marketing Associate’ clearly highlighted. A possible ally, but ultimately useless; no force, no real power, and ultimately if the tall man needed access to a building he would find his own way. Ah, here was another, more promising. A young, stocky man in army fatigues. It didn't matter the rank or actual combat ability, the tall man just needed eyes and ears on the inside.

The tall man drew a golden pen from his breast pocket, and in a single smooth motion leaned forward and tapped it to the young man’s chest. “Excuse me.” He quietly muttered as the young man’s eyes flashed a shade of blue. “Next time, you’ll miss your stop. Ride on to the end.” He whispered. The young man nodded without so much as a glance, and marched his way off the train. The tall man grinned to himself, this was turning into a fruitful journey. He had already acquired a business executive and a chemistry professor, and now an army grunt. Maybe it was time to pick out a little something for himself. He smiled as he ran his gaze across the carriage. He had already spotted one.

She was a young woman, pretty and with hair that reminded him of a woman who’d tricked him before. He could only see her from the side, but he approved of her slender yet curved figure that pressed against her crisp white shirt. As she stood up, he saw an ID badge clipped to the waist of her skirt: ‘Dr Black; Paediatrics; North East General Hospital’. It often amazed him just how many people would go walking around with all that information displayed for all to see. She pulled on a black jacket, swinging her bag over her shoulder and making her way towards him. It was only as she drew closer he noticed her pull the small headphones from her ears and absent-mindedly shove them into the bag. As the train began to slow she toppled forward towards him.

“Sorry, I’m so sorry.” She apologised with a smile, then glancing down at the pen she jokingly raised her hands in the air “Ah! You got me!” she laughed.

He was caught off-guard by her smile. “Stay.” He commanded calmly.

“Sorry, I can’t, this is my stop.” She smiled, her eyes meeting his as she stepped past him towards the doors. “But it was nice to bump into you.” She waved a short goodbye as she left the train.

It hadn’t worked. It had always worked before, apart from that one occasion, but she hardly had a metal plate in her chest. He tried it again, on a random passer-by just to make sure it was still functioning. He saw the eyes change, and when he told her to sit back at her table, she had done so. He tried to think back; maybe he hadn’t been quick enough, maybe he had been distracted. He stared out of the window onto the platform, looking to see if she had waited, but it was completely empty. He couldn’t hold back a fascinated grin as he murmured under his breath “Who are you, Doctor Black?”


	2. He Would Win

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki begins his plans, but finds his attentions diverted by a young doctor.

### Chapter 2

#### Part 1 - Good Luck Doctor

“Doctor Black. ENT just called, they want to do Simon’s op tomorrow, so could you get him ready for theatre?” Lisa the ward nurse called as Dr Black strode past with a tray of equipment.

“Yes, sure, can you tell them I will phone them back, make sure the rest of the staff know so he’s starved, I’ll write up a drip if you can get someone to set it,” she took a much needed breath “and you can call me Caitlyn.”

“Where’s Doctor Stephano? Sorry, I mean Mister Stephano?” Lisa asked “Isn’t it his shift too?”

“They had an emergency with an appendicitis, and the other surgeons are all busy with some crisis in theatre ten. If you phone him in half an hour, see if he’s closing. If he’s not, bleep whoever’s in charge of nights in the rest of the hospital and tell them we need another pair of hands down here.”

“When are you finished?”

“Eleven, I think. Whenever I can get out!” Caitlyn let out an exasperated laugh. “Eleven to eleven all week. I think I’d rather have nights. Now where was I going?”

“Bloods from bed seven.”

“Jenny, she’s got the tiniest veins I’ve ever seen.”

“Good luck Doctor.”

“Thanks.”

  
   


####  Part 2 – I Can Wait 

The tall man with dark hair paced the floor of a dimly lit warehouse. Yes, this would fit the bill; a nice secluded base of operations right in the middle of the run down city outskirts. There wasn’t a working CCTV camera for miles, so his people could come and go as they pleased. As long as they cut it down to civilian transport, no more than four or five deliveries a day, no-one would pay any notice. “Gentlemen, do what you do best.” He commanded his group.

He didn’t even know what half of the machines did; clamping and scraping and welding – that was as far as his people had come. They didn’t have nearly the ingenuity of these mortals. Perhaps it was because they were always dying, they had more to fear, and more reason to create the strongest weapon. Machine guns, atom bombs, grenades and even those night-vision goggles; it was all so exciting.

As he watched them work he found his thoughts drifting to her again. Why hadn’t it worked? And why couldn’t he get her out of his head? Thoughts writhing around, becoming obsession; it was a puzzle which he couldn’t solve. He couldn’t just leave it alone either; he was a genius, especially by the standard of his peers, and he couldn’t leave a question unanswered. It was infuriating, she was infuriating. All he had wanted was a little distraction, and this was, well, far too distracting. And yet, when she had smiled, he had been glad that it was a true smile, not a coerced one. He was shocked, and that was fantastic, it made him jolt again to remember it. He just needed one more look, one more moment and this obsession would be over. He just needed an answer.

“Mr Loki, sir, exactly how big do you want this blast to be?”

“Ooh, as big as you can make it. I think a ten mile radius should suffice.” Loki gestured, unfolding his interlocked fingers as an expanding sphere.

“That’s going to take a while, and it’ll need a hell of a lot of power behind it.”

“I can wait.” He had other things to think of.  
   


#### Part 3 – The Surgeon

“Mister Doctor Stephano, how are you doing at this late hour?” Caitlyn greeted Stephano warmly as he brushed past her and into the ward.

“I’m not too bad, Just a Doctor Caitlyn.” He replied in a chaotic Sicilian accent. “How’s tricks?”

“Never mind me, how did it go?” Caitlyn smiled “Come on. We’re all dying to know!”

Mr Stephano gracefully pushed his hair back and began to recite in his usual calm demeanour. “Well, I took David out to this really fancy place, you know, where they stare at you if you order red wine with fish.”

“Which he did.”

“Will you let me tell the story? Anyway, things started going wrong, and we got into a huge fight, right there in the middle of the restaurant…” he dipped his head low.

“And?” she almost shouted as Lisa wandered into earshot.

“And then I asked him to marry me.” Stephano finally looked up, with a beaming smile.

“And he said yes?” Lisa urgently asked.

“Of course he said yes! I mean, come on: look at me!” He laughed.

“Oh, that’s fantastic!” Caitlyn beamed, virtually tackling him to the floor with an enveloping hug. Lisa joined her, forming a female scrum around Stephano. “If you don’t invite me to the wedding I’ll break all your pens.” Caitlyn threatened through a wide grin.

“Let me go, so I can get this shift over and get home to my…fiancée.” He couldn’t resist a second smile. The women released him from their embrace. “What do you need me to do?” he asked in a better mood than anyone had previously seen in any surgeon.

“Let’s see, you’ve got three post-op, oh and Simon’s going in tomorrow. I think he’s a little nervous, so you could go explain things to him again. And if you could do Jenny’s bloods I would be eternally thankful.”

“Honestly Doctor Black, I don’t know what they pay you for.” He grinned. “And what will you be doing?”

“You hear that retching sound from the side room?”  
Stephano strained his ears. “C diff?”

“Microbiology’s not got back to me yet, but odds are good.”

“Well, enjoy yourself.” He paused “Are you sure you don’t want to talk to him yourself?”

“You’re the surgeon.”

“Yes, but…” Stephano didn’t know how to put it. Simon didn’t trust the rest of them.

“I’ll come round later, see if I can get him to sleep.” She answered.  
   


#### Part 4 – Laugh, Kookaburra, Laugh

Loki flitted through reflections in the large window panes. It didn’t take him long to find the one he was looking for. Then he saw her, standing on the second floor by a wall of decorated glass. She briskly turned, and seemed to stare straight through him, but then, distracted, looked away. It was strange, to feel so exposed when he knew he was invisible to them. He drew closer and followed as she paced across the room.

“Simon. You should be asleep.” Caitlyn gently scolded.

“I can’t.” he weakly moaned.

“Why not? You have a big day tomorrow.” She smiled, sitting on the end of his bed. 

He nodded, eyes welling up.

“Is that what’s keeping you up?” she asked.

“I’m scared. I don’t want to.”

“Why?” she held his hand.

“What if something…” his voice cracked as he held his throat. She took his hand in hers and lowered it from his neck.

“Hey, don’t you worry about that.” She squeezed his hand as he squeezed back. “Tomorrow it’ll be done, and I’ll get you some ice cream to celebrate.”

“Ice cream?”

“Yes.”

“You promise?”

“I promise, Simon.”

“Could you…sing the song?” Simon asked. “The cuckoo bird one.” He smiled hopefully.

“If I do will you promise to go to sleep?”

“I’ll try.”

“Alright. But just this once.” She smiled warmly.  


> “Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree,  
> Merry merry king of the bush is he.  
> Laugh, kookaburra laugh,  
> Kookaburra gay your life must be.” 

Simon started to smirk, and then to sing along as the words repeated, and then to laugh. As he watched, Loki felt the strangest sensation wash through him. He stumbled back, seeming to fly into the window pane opposite, across the arching hallway. All at once he felt a glow of sudden, unexplained happiness. He felt as he had done, as a boy playing with his brother, as a child, safe and loved; truly, perfectly happy. And, just as the child had, he began to smile, and then to laugh as brightly and whole-heartedly as he had ever done. His face began to ache from all of the unaccustomed smiling, and yet he couldn’t stop himself. He was deliriously and irrevocably happy. The singing abruptly stopped as Simon pulled on Dr Black’s arm.

“Did you hear that Doctor Caitlyn?” Simon started.

“What?” she asked.

“I thought I heard a man laughing.” He turned his head to the glass wall, but couldn’t place where the sound had come from. “Somewhere, I think, I don’t know.”

“That’s alright Simon. You go to sleep. I’ll go and see what it is.” She smiled, staring out of the glass.

“Dr Caitlyn. I like chocolate chip ice cream. Not mint.”

“I’ll remember that Simon. Now off to sleep!” she teased, switching off his bedside light, which he immediately switched back on, pointing to the corridor.

She turned and walked out of the room, to the central hall of the ward. Lisa had already gone home, and another nurse she didn’t recognise was sitting by the central desk.

“I’m just going to check the corridor, you’ve got my bleep if you need me. I shouldn’t be long.”

The nurse regarded Caitlyn with a grand apathy and returned to her computer screen.

Loki struggled to regain his sensibilities. He had completely lost control, and what was more, he had never been so happy. Not in a long time.

“Hello? Is someone there?” Caitlyn called down the empty corridor, and heard her voice echo in the glass-lined hallway. “Hello? Visiting hours are over.” She called, but there was no sign of the mysterious laughter Simon had heard. She looked back into the ward and gave Simon a quick wave, to which he replied a thumbs-up, and switched off his light. She leaned back against the glass and sighed. “Come on Caitlyn. Just an hour to go.” And, almost as if on cue, her bleep began to screech harshly. “Not a crash.” She moaned. “Please not a crash.”

“Crash call, paediatric theatres recovery.” The tinny voice rattled through a half-broken speaker. Dr Black glanced at the ward signs for directions and then broke off into a sprint.

Loki had watched in stunned silence as she had leaned against him, and had seemed to speak for him to hear. And yet, she couldn’t have known. He slipped out of the world of reflections and back to his dark lair. He paced the floor of the abandoned warehouse, now filled over the course of one day, with machinery and explosives. He took stock – he had a team to build a bomb, but no ammunition. He could use the army recruit to help him find that. What he really needed was more influential people, stronger people. He tried to focus on his plan, but she kept drifting in once more. What had she done to him? He found himself ever more drawn to what; a mortal woman? A pointless, worthless, human woman. He felt himself sickened at the prospect of being duped in the same way his brother had, by the ways of mortals. He was a god, the god of trickery, and he would find this hold and break it! He would break her, find out her secret and then…and then… he would win.


	3. Bored

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony Stark is bored, which means a headache for Nick Fury.

### Chapter 3

#### Part 1 – Bored 

“Anything new, JARVIS?” Tony Stark asked his computer system.

“ _Nothing since you asked me ten minutes ago, sir._ ” The inexplicably sarcastic British-accented system responded.

“Come on, there’s got to be something going on out there! Explosions, car chases, terrorists, aliens…something!”

“ _Might I suggest you reduce your caffeine intake…_ ”

“Hey! Hey. Any more talk like that, JARVIS, and I’ll give you the voice of a five year old girl.”

“ _I’m quaking in my CPU, sir._ ”

“That’s more like it.” Tony Stark opened his eighth cola of the day. “And I need my caffeine; I’m so bored I’m on the edge of a coma.” He switched on his tv and skimmed news channels. “I mean, what is this crap?”

“ _World peace truly is a tragedy, sir._ ”

“Hey, what are those SHIELD guys doing? Anything there? Any secret missions or covert operations or anything like that?”

“ _Do you want me to hack into their server, sir? I will remind you that you will be breaking several state and federal laws._ ”

“No, of course not.” He hopped over to his laptop. “I’ll do it, it’ll be much faster. Watch and learn, JARVIS.”

“ _Yes sir, watching and learning._ ”  
   


#### Part 2 – Hacked 

“Director Fury, we’re being hacked by Stark again.”

“Now why in the hell can’t he just ask nicely?” Nick Fury lamented. “Can we ‘hack’ him back?”

“Sir, you don’t really hack a hacker, you need to build the infrastructure to keep the system safe; a process that takes months, even years of adaptation…” a particularly tech-savvy member of SHIELD’s crew attempted to explain to Fury.

“Can you do it or not?” Fury shouted mere inches behind his technician’s head.

“No, I can’t, Director Fury, sir.” It was like trying to explain the internet to his grandmother.

“Then someone get me Stark on the phone!”

Stark’s phone rang out, and he activated his Bluetooth headset as he continued hacking. “This is Tony, I’m not in right now, but you can leave your message…”

“ _Stark, why in the hell are you hacking us?_ ” Nick Fury’s voice ricocheted down the phone.

“Press 1 for general messages, press 2 for grievances, press 3 to be put through to a call centre…”

“ _I could have you locked up for this shit! I don’t care how good your lawyers are. When I get to you you’ll need a mechanic to put you back together!_ ”

“You have selected option six; angry rants from angry men. Please hold. Your tiny-ass problems are very important to us.” He smiled as SHIELD’s files appeared on his screen.  
“What’s this? CCTV in Britain? I didn’t know you guys got network in that flying bunker of yours.”

“ _We’re working on an angle. If you wanted to help, Stark, you could just ask._ ”

“What kind of angle? Ooh, power surges! That’s fun.” Stark meandered, opening ever more files and displaying them across his viewer screen wall. “What do we think, JARVIS?”

“ _It could be something important, it could also be a faulty transmission tower, Sir._ ” JARVIS droned.

“Why’s SHIELD interested in that?” Stark impatiently asked, while scanning a document marked ‘TOP SECRET’, and removing the censorship in what patches he could.

“ _Stark, we watch everything, that’s what we do._ ”

“That’s funny; I thought the H in SHIELD stood for ‘Homeland’.”

“ _Since the earth was invaded, I like to think it’s all our Homeland._ ” Nick Fury impatiently tapped a railing. “ _What are you up to Stark? You sound like you’re on crack._ ”

“Nope, just really really bored. All quiet on the Western front. Before the storm, you know?”

“ _If you want I could get you a job._ ” Fury interjected.

“Hah, very funny. What’s the pay like up there? Or is it down there? Where are you guys at the moment? I’m getting Atlantic ocean, but it doesn’t tell you how it relates to sea level.”  
Tony took a large gulp from his cola can. “Who are we talking about anyway? Who’s the bad guy?”

“ _Stark, if I knew that I’d have called the whole team together and got you off your lazy drunk ass._ ”

“Oh come on, that’s just hurtful.” He paused. “JARVIS, what’s that cluster of surges, right about there? What have we got in the area?”

“ _Largely run-down area, mostly housing, and a local hospital._ ” JARVIS murmured in an apathetic tone.

“Hospital, I’d say that’s something to check out, wouldn’t you JARVIS?”

“ _Yes, sir. You programmed me._ ”

Tony clutched his hand to his chest and pretended to choke up. “That’s my boy.”

“ _Thank you, Stark, for all your help. Can you leave my systems alone now?_ ”

“You should really get a better firewall; you should buy mine, Stark enterprises. Trademark.” Tony stated, hanging up the phone and ceasing his attack.

“God damn Stark, I can’t tell whether he’s just trying to piss me off.” Nick Fury muttered. “Are we in range yet?”

“Another hour and fifteen minutes sir.”

Nick Fury grumbled in reply. Someone was going to get yelled at.  
   


#### Part 3 – One Hundred and Thirty Three 

“What are you up to, Director Fury?” Tony Stark mused, reading through the previously secured files that now littered his many wall-screens. “Jarvis, did we miss anything when we took those files?”

“ _Not that I am aware of, sir._ ”

“Well, something’s missing. Something doesn’t add up.”

“ _Figuratively, sir?_ ”

“No, literally. File count here says there should be one hundred thirty four files in this folder, but I’ve checked and there aren’t. There are one hundred thirty-three.” He paused, inhaling coffee. “Ooh, that’s hot.”

“ _Miss Potts asked me to remind you not to burn your oesophagus, as it is proven to increase incidence of many diseases including cancer…_ ”

“Yeah, yeah. Where is this file, Jarvis?”

“ _The folder information may have been altered._ ”

“That’s stupid. Think smarter Jarvis. I can’t do all the work myself.”

“ _I can only work within the limits of my program, sir._ ”

“Right, yeah, I need to fix that.” He mused. “Jarvis, could that be a file deleted in transfer?”

“ _Yes sir, it most certainly could._ ”

“Could you recover it?”

“ _I can attempt to piece together various fragments, but the file may not be completely recoverable, sir._ ”

“Give it a go, would you Jarvis?” he looked at his ridiculously expensive watch. “I’ve got a date; can you let me know when you get this done?”

“ _Miss Potts requested that I not interrupt your dates unless there was a state of national or international emergency._ ”

“Well,” Tony Stark paused. “Just text me. That’ll be fine. I’m sure she’ll understand…”

“ _Whatever you say, sir._ ” Jarvis replied in a characteristic sardonic tone, which Tony did not remember specifying in his programming. Nonetheless Tony headed into his bedroom to dress for the long-awaited date. It would be fine. Pepper would understand.


	4. What Are You?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr Black loses her cool and Loki loses his calm.

### Chapter 4 - What are you?

It had been a horrific crash call. The kid had bled out in theatre, and no-one ever calculated the replacement blood right. It was little wonder the kid had arrested, there was barely enough left in her to fill the heart, let alone perfuse the major organs. What was worse, the sutures had opened up right in the middle of chest compressions. The whole thing was a bloody mess. That kid was dead from the moment they had started. Dr Black had even been offered counselling by the time it was over. Little good that would do; just another tick box for human resources. Dr Black scrubbed her wrists fiercely, trying to remove the blood that had found its way over her gloves.

She could barely breathe as she dropped to the floor, legs shaking. She fought back against the tears that were forming across the brim of her eyelids. “Come on. Causes of pancreatitis: Gallstones, Ethanol, Trauma. Steroids, Mumps, Autoimmune, Snake bite, Hypercalcaemia, ERCP, Drugs.” She recited the mantra, feeling her breathing slow and her tears subside. “CREST syndrome: Calcinosis, Reynaud’s, E…” she ran her hands through her hair. “Come on…come on Caitlyn… Calcinosis, Reynaud’s, E…oesophageal dysmotility, Sclerodactyly, Telangectasia.” She sighed. She glanced at her watch: midnight; she’d ran over…again. Time to go home. “Come on. Just keep breathing. Just keep breathing.”

Why had Loki returned? Why was he still watching? He couldn’t explain it himself, but he found himself being drawn back once more. He had watched them try to save the child, all in vain, and had felt something akin to sorrow as he had watched the lifeless little girl ooze the last of her blood. Those eyes had seemed too large for a small creature, and they had turned cold so gently. He had to admit he had almost been impressed when Dr Black had calmly explained to the family that they had lost their only child. She had been so cool, taking all their anger and sorrow and allowing it to flow. But that snivelling, pathetic, wreck that she had become when she was alone; that had disgusted him.

And he suspected why; it was something he had seen in himself. It was the wretched shade of his soul that couldn’t shut out the pain; the pain of a life of lies, of a father who never revealed the secrets of his birth, and a mother would never truly love him like she loved her own, dear Thor. How could she? How could anyone love a monster? Well, if they wanted a monster, he would give them one. He would do what he wanted, without care, without remorse, because they had made him this way. They had wanted this. Odin had asked for this when he stole a frost giant and dressed him as a prince. When he had watched the little sorcerer’s transgressions and had not sought fit to end him then and there. When he had raised a serpent in his great nest. And Thor had still dared to call him brother. That was why he had sworn to destroy his beloved Earth, to prove, once and for all, just what he really was. Something they couldn’t forgive, not any more.

But why her? What was it that kept drawing him to her? There were other women out there, women who were…not what he wanted. Maybe it was that she was just so…good. She was able to live virtuously and revel in it. Every act selfless and kind, and it all came so effortlessly. He envied that: to be able to sit so easily in one’s place, and have people admire you for it. How wonderfully easy it must be, to have all that power and to have people praise you, beg for you to use it. Perhaps he should take the guise of a doctor in the future.  
He watched her, walking through empty corridors and down desolate streets. He wanted to break her; smash that goodness, that virtue; bring her down to his level, just to show how far he could make her fall. He wanted to see her naked on her knees.

“Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree” she began to sing to herself. Her voice was quiet, yet in the relative silence of the night it echoed down streets.

Once more, Loki found himself smiling, grinning. Happy. It didn’t make any sense, but suddenly all of that anger and hatred at the world just melted away. He saw himself replaced with a grinning idiot, much like Thor, he mused.

“Laugh, kookaburra laugh”

Loki could barely contain his joy as he slipped out of the reflections and back into his own body. He laughed until his sides ached, tears forming in his eyes. “What are you doing to me?” he asked the empty warehouse. “Oh. What are you?”


	5. It Wasn't Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony regrets his earlier actions. Dr Black clashes with an angry american.

### Chapter 5 - It wasn't enough

#### Part 1 – Borderline Irregular

“Pep, can we just talk about this?” Tony Stark begged as Pepper climbed into her coffee-coloured Boxster.

“There’s nothing more to say.” She dismissed him as she pulled on her seatbelt.

“Yes there is.” He stuck his head through the window. “What about: ‘Tony, you’re an idiot.’, ‘Tony you broke your promise to me.’ Which I did; I admit it. I’m sorry.” Pepper gently raised the window and Stark withdrew his head to avoid the imminent decapitation. “Just say something, please!”

She lowered the window a fraction so she was sure he would hear. “Goodbye Tony.”

“No, no. Pep, don’t go, please!” he shouted as her car sped off. “Shit!” He’d messed things up, again. Every single fucking time, the ego of Tony Stark was more than anyone could reasonably handle.

He stormed back into his home, kicking innocent walls as he passed. “JARVIS, do me a favour; every time you talk to me, call me ‘Tony Stark – shithead’! Could you do that, please?”

“I take it your evening went poorly.”

“Yeah!” Stark shouted while heading for his liquor.

“Sir, Miss Potts asked me to remind you that excessive alcohol consumption leads to an early death.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t think she’d care right now.” Stark necked a rather expensive bourbon. “You’re a fucking idiot Tony Stark.” He poured another. “That’s the thing I don’t get; if she was so pissed off, why didn’t she say something? How am I expected to know what she’s thinking? If she says something’s fine, how should I know that means I’ve screwed everything up?”

“Women are a mystery, sir.”

“Yeah.” He took a hearty swig, this time from the bottle. “ _It’s fine Tony._ I tell you Jarvis, when a woman uses the word fine she’s about to rip your goddamn nuts off.”

“I will endeavour to keep mine firmly bolted in place, sir.”

“Ha. That’s a good one Jarvis. You’re a funny guy.” He smiled, the realisation dawning upon him that he was drinking alone with his computer.

“Sir, I detect your heart rate is borderline irregular.”

“Yeah, well, wake me up if it stops, will you?”

“Of course, sir.”

Tony had hoped that the drink would dull the pain, but all it did was make him sink deeper. _“I can’t believe you’re doing this again, Tony.”_ She had said. _“I just don’t know if I can deal with you right now.”_ No explanation, no chance for him to apologise, she had just left. Alright he had been a bit preoccupied, but he hadn’t been cold to her. He hadn’t forgotten her at some fancy party, so why was it so much worse this time? It didn’t make sense. He didn’t know how to fix it. He just knew he was real goddamn tired.  
   


#### Part 2 – An Angry American

Director Fury had had enough of this fucking day. Arrived in the country at stupid-o-clock in the morning, and then he’d had a day full of bullshit. He had a hundred and one hoops to jump through just to land one of his planes in the goddamn UK, and now he had to cope with some tight-assed bitch who wouldn’t let him do his duty.

“I’m sorry Mister…” she paused to look at his badge “Fury. But I can’t let you come here and talk to anyone until you clear it with the hospital’s legal team.” She shifted to stand between him and the door to the ward.

“This is a goddamn waste of time.” He complained “I am a military official of the United States of America, and I am here to do a goddamn job!”

“Well, you’re not in America, are you? And regardless of what you think your job is, I am here to do mine, and that involves making sure that these children are not subjected to any kind of unnecessary stress.” She dropped her voice as she realised that she had been shouting. “That includes being traumatised by cowboys who carry guns in a hospital.”

“This is a matter of international security and safety, miss…”

“Doctor Black.” She cut in.

“Doctor Black,” he plastered a forced smile across his face. “We may be dealing with a very credible threat.”

“Credible. How credible? How credible can it possibly be, if you’re interrogating children?”

“I am Director Nick Fury, and if I say something is credible, you can take it to the goddamn bank!”

“Well, then it won’t take you long to provide some kind of official paperwork that can be signed off.”

“Look, you either let me in now, or I will personally make sure that you get buried in a shitstorm when all of this goes down, and the world will know you were the one who stopped me from doing MY GODDAMNED JOB!” He shouted, spittle flicking from his lips and eye staring wide.

She breathed calmly and deliberately, smiling politely. “Mr Fury, I will not be bullied or threatened. Not by you, not by anyone. Not when it comes to these children, who I remind you are children and do not need to hear this kind of language.” She held herself calm against one of the angrier faces she had seen in the recent past. “I don’t care if your ‘agents’ have already spoken to every other human being in a five-mile radius. I am telling you now, that until you clear this with the hospital’s legal team, you are not getting into my ward. As I have already told this gentleman here.” She indicated to the suited and buzz-cut agent who was shifting uncomfortably in his shoes.

He stood for a moment in stunned silence. This was a no-win situation; he wasn’t getting in unless he physically removed her, and that’d probably cause some kind of incident with the local cops. “And where can I find this legal department?” he growled, defeated.

“Well, as it’s now six pm, they’ve gone home. I suggest you come back tomorrow at eleven, when their office re-opens.” She smiled. “Which just so happens to be when I come back on shift, and so I will have the pleasure of having this conversation again.”

Nick Fury grumbled, swore under his breath and then stormed away. “This isn’t over!” he shouted. His agent trotted quickly behind him, keeping a safe distance from Fury’s clenched fists.

Caitlyn stepped quickly into the ward, closing the door briskly behind her. “If that man comes back to the ward, call security. Tell him he’s not allowed back in until he’s spoken to legal and to me.” She instructed one of the passing nurses. She slowly exhaled, trembling slightly. That man had an anger that would put orthopaedic surgeons to shame.

“Who was that?” asked mister Stephano, passing in his oversized theatre scrubs and looking ever-so-slightly like a budget-price genie.

“Some angry American.” She rolled her eyes. “He said it was a ‘matter of international security’.”

“That’s a bit dramatic!” Stephano smiled.

“Simon back from theatres yet?”

“Not yet. Don’t worry, everything’s fine, they’re just running late. And besides, I have the crash bleep until nights takes over.” He held her hand warmly. “I heard about last night. Are you alright?”

“I wish everyone would stop asking me that.” She made a conscious effort to meet his gaze. “Honestly, I’m fine. It’s not like it hasn’t happened before.”

He gave the kind, concerned expression that told her he didn’t believe her.

“I’m not fine, but I’m dealing with it. Ok?” she pulled her hand back.

“Dr Walters said you wouldn’t stop chest compressions.”

“Well Doctor Walters…” Doctor Walters was a hack who didn’t know his arse from his elbow, which was why he’d never made consultant, but she couldn’t say something so indelicate. “Doctor Walters and I have differing opinions.”

“Do you want to talk, after work?” he asked, concern laced in his kindness.

_For fuck’s sake, I’m not going to top myself just because I had a bad day,_ she thought. “No, it’s fine.” She smiled. “Thanks, but I’ll be alright. I’ll see you on Friday though, for the finale?” The finale was a small hospital tradition that involved solid drinking after a week of hellish shifts.

“Absolutely.” He smiled. That should calm him, she thought, evidence of forward planning, optimism: signs that someone is not planning on taking their own life. These basic psychiatric concepts were taught to all medical students far and wide, and as a result most doctors were experts at faking them.

Caitlyn smiled and went off to complete waiting paperwork in the grunt cupboard while Stephano continued his review. As they did, Loki found himself smiling in a small window pane. He had taken immense pleasure in standing mere inches from Nick Fury. In his silent mockery he had even dared to whisper “I’m here Mr Fury. I’m waiting.” But by far the greatest joy came when Doctor Black had reduced him to a growling, defeated pup; leaving with his tail between his legs. Loki couldn’t have done it better himself. He was glad he had been present for that moment, despite the time that he was wasting. But now he knew it wasn’t enough. He wanted to meet her again, this time in the flesh.


	6. Caveat Emptor

### Chapter 6

#### Part 1 - Exciting

Caitlyn finished her shift with a smile on her face. Simon was back in his bed, having recovered fantastically from his op. He wasn’t quite with it yet, but he looked good. In fact, this was a relatively calm day compared to the one before. She left the hospital on time for once, and smiled as she put her headphones in.

Eleven at night was a rather risky time to travel; the local revellers were already long gone into the cities of their choice, it was only the shady ones who stuck around this late. By one in the morning they’d already be off their faces on whatever concoction would last them through the night, but at eleven they were still itching for it. Doctor Black was acutely aware of this fact, but chose to ignore it because she had little option not to. She aimed to reduce her risk by walking quickly, always in the streetlight, and not carrying anything on her more valuable than about fifty quid. So far it had left her relatively scrape-free, and so she stuck to it, but ahead of her she saw someone who was either an idiot or incredibly brave.

“Hello? What are you doing out here, dressed like that? Are you trying to get mugged?” she whispered.

“My train changes here, Doctor Black.” He turned, smiling coolly.

“How did you…” she asked, slightly stunned. With a long finger he indicated to the badge hanging at her waist. “Right. That makes sense. Sorry. I, uh…Hey, I remember you. I tackled you on the train the other day! Sorry about that.” She found herself rambling as she looked into piercing green eyes.

“It’s no trouble.” He grinned widely. “Am I allowed to say I didn’t mind?”

_Dear god_ , she thought, _those cheekbones could cut glass. Look away. Don’t stare. It’s creepy._ “So, what kind of train service drops you off in the middle of the night in a place like this?” _Oh shit,_ she felt a sick feeling rise across her as she saw someone moving in the shadows. _Oh shit, I’m going to fucking die_.

“Hey, you’re a doc right?” a shady-looking man asked, slowly sliding towards the two of them, hands deep in a full front pocket. “You got drugs on you?”

_Shit, what is that? A knife? A gun? Shit, shit shit shit!!!_ She could hear her heart pounding in her head. “Nah. Don’t let us take them out of the hospital I’m afraid.” _I am afraid. I am very fucking afraid_. She tried her hardest to maintain a calm tone, reaching slowly into her bag and withdrawing some lose cash. “But you look like you could use a meal.” She smiled kindly, outstretching her left hand, holding a couple of folded notes between her index and middle finger.

As the man came closer she could see he was fairly skinny despite his height, sunken eyes, gaunt cheeks; _‘probably crack’_ she thought. His hands squirmed in his pockets. “You got a phone?” he asked, eyes unblinking and bloodshot.

She calmly drew the phone out of her bag. “Old one, not worth much.” She showed him.

“What about you?” he addressed the man, who stood passively facing the other side of the train platform. “You got anything?” he grew angrier “I’m talking to you!” he began to withdraw his hand from the pocket. _Was that a fucking gun?!_

“Look.” She stated “Look at me. You’re about to make a mistake here, and I don’t want that to happen. I don’t know what you’ve got in that pocket, but I do know this; as soon as it comes out, right in front of that camera over there, there’s no turning back from this. Ok?” she spoke with a quiet strength she wasn’t quite sure she knew the origin of. “Please. Take this. I’m giving it to you.”

He glanced over at the CCTV camera, then back to her, as he started to get jittery. “No, that’s bullshit man. You’re a liar!”

“I’m a doctor. I don’t lie.” She stated. “As far as I’m concerned you’re a hungry looking guy I want to help out. Nothing else. So please, let me help.” She felt her heart skip a beat as she heard the train approaching. The man quickly snatched the money from her hand and sprinted off back to the darkened streets. She gasped briefly, trying to fill her lungs with the air she had been lacking.

“That was very impressive.”

She meekly nodded in acknowledgement. She stepped into empty carriage, taking a seat at one of the tables. He calmly followed her and sat opposite.

“You don’t lie?”

“Well…I take some artistic licences with the truth.” She smiled, still shaken. “Are you ok?”

“Oh yes, I’m fine.” He smirked. “I know how to defend myself in that kind of situation. I think I would have acted a little differently to you, Dr Black.”

“Well, no offence, but you brought a pen to a knife-fight. I think my way was better. And my name’s Caitlyn, by the way.” She paused. “…This is the part where you tell me your name.”

“Is it?” he raised an eyebrow while continuing to stare in that all-too-warming way. “My name is John.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, grinning.

“No.” he paused, still staring with the hint of a smile. “I’m really Loki of Asgard; burdened with glorious purpose. Oh, I’m deathly serious. Loki: God of Lies.”

“All right, I deserved that.” She broke their gaze, glancing to the floor, then braving his grin. “So, John, what brings you out here this time of night?”

“Work.”

“Oh, what do you do?”

“I’m in an orchestra.”

“What do you play?”

“The stick.” He smiled at her expression of confusion. “I’m a conductor.”

“Really? Wow, what kind of…” she paused “Sorry, I’m asking too many questions aren’t I? Sometimes it’s kind of hard to switch off…”

“Oh no, it’s fine. I don’t mind.” He smiled with dark eyes. He loved to hear the spinning of his own lies. He had even thrown the truth in her face, and she still fell for his stories.  
“The music is mostly classical; at the moment, Étienne Méhul, do you know his work?”

She shook her head in response.

“Fantastic composer; the first of the Romantics, he believed in the dramatic expression of music.” He seemed to be watching all the more acutely. “Music like that has such power over us, don’t you agree?” He wanted the answer. He wanted to tie her down and fuck it out of her.

There was something in that question, some deep intensity that made her skin tingle. “I’ve always been more a fan of lyrics.” She smiled meekly.

“Oh, but music, it challenges at a level beyond words. It is feelings and abstract concepts and stories in every moment.” He grew impassioned, with eyes full of fire and thoughts that almost could not find their form.

She couldn’t hold back. “But words are abstract too. A word like: rose. It’s only a word, but that word means something; it’s a colour; a scent; a texture; a memory and everything that goes with it. In each word is a whole song, a whole world.” She saw him staring, it shook her a little; there was something she couldn’t quite place in it. Something she liked. “At least, that’s what I think.”

“But you must agree that music is more universal; even a child can recognise the uplifting tune from the mournful one, and find himself stirred.”

“You see, that’s the amazing thing about language: even before they know the meaning of words, children are able to pick up the sense of the sounds used within them. In studies…” she paused, smiling “I guess what I mean to say here is that we’re essentially arguing the same point, just on different levels.”

“And is your argument on a higher level than mine?” he asked with a charming smile that little betrayed the fire burning inside. _I’d make you recount those words on your hands and knees you impudent…_ His train of thought was broken as his actual train ground fiercely to a halt. 

A tinny drone echoed down the abandoned carriages as lights flickered like a cascade of dying Christmas lights _“…Train service would like to apologise for the delay to your service, here today…”_ parts of the message were drowned in the tautologies spouting from the speaker system. _“This is due to a ‘technical issue’, which will be resolved, as soon as possible.”_

“Ever notice how someone can run their mouth off and not say a single thing?” Caitlyn sighed. “This is not my day.”

“Oh, I disagree. Given the circumstances, I think it’s going exceptionally well.” He glanced out of the window into the darkness. “Of course, I could be a violent psychopath, but other than that I’d say you’re relatively unscathed.” He grinned with a twisted enjoyment.

“Hmm,” she mused; Time to put four months of psych to the test. “A woman’s husband dies in a car crash. She brings her son in to me, and asks; ‘Why has my child stopped eating?’” She waited calmly for his response.

“Because he’s sad.” Loki stated dismissively.

“And you’re not a psychopath.” She smiled. “I mean I wouldn’t stake my reputation on it, but I’m pretty convinced.”

“And are you a good judge of character?”

“Professionally, yes; personally…well, that’s something else entirely.” she smiled “What about you?”

_“…Just to update you, on the delay, to this service, which is currently delayed, by approximately five minutes… we are still waiting, on engineers, to this service, that will allow this service, to depart, as soon as possible…”_ the nasal voice droned through the train.

“Looks like we’re going to be here a while.” He said, stretching out his body, and smiling ever so slightly.

“You don’t sound too upset.”

“I’ve been trapped in worse places, with company of poorer quality.”

_What a smooth-talker_. She thought. “You didn’t answer me, before. Do you consider yourself a good judge of character?”

“You could say that. I like to think I study the actions people well enough not to need to judge their character.” He stared calmly, not sure which hints to drop and which he would let hide.

“Then you can’t possibly know anything about me.” She retorted. “Or the _quality of my company_.”

“Have I insulted you? I promise that was not my intention.” He felt slightly off-balance. Something strange was happening.

“Not at all. I’m just wondering what you’re basing your assumptions on; and what you could assume me to be over such a short space of time.” She smiled. “I might be incredibly boring, or lazy, or vapid. What might you be using to judge my quality?” She waited, watching him. “I’m messing with you, John.” She grinned. “Do you wanna play cards? Your poker face is terrible.” She retrieved a deck from her bag.

He sat stunned, speechless. It was all he could do to nod with some dignity. How dare she mock a god? As though he were no better than her! The things he would do to break her ways… This was nothing like the obedience he had been used to: that dull, empty obedience that always left him unsatisfied. No, this was exciting.  
 

#### Part 2 – Why Are We Laughing?

An unwelcome ringing filled the humid darkness of Dr Banner’s hut. He searched half-heartedly through his bag to find the source, finding his phone ringing, displaying the caller ID of Tony Stark.

_“Hey man, what’s up? How’s it going?”_

“Tony?” moaned Dr Banner into his phone “What are you doing? What time is it?”

_“It’s about four, four twenty, something like that. At least, where you are.”_

“Then why are you calling me?”

_“Because you won’t answer your door, dude!”_

“Door? What?” Dr Banner opened his eyes to the harsh sound of someone rapping on his door. He instinctively hung up the phone as he paced the floor. He opened the door to a slightly haggard looking Tony Stark “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Hey, that’s rude! I was just in the neighbourhood, you know, and I thought I’d…” he mimed hitting a golf ball “…swing on by. You gonna let me in?”

Dr Banner nodded sombrely; it was too early to argue. “Just in the neighbourhood...”

“Yup.”

“You were just hanging around in the outskirts of Namibia…”

“Yeah.” Stark stated, unflinchingly.

“Ok.” Dr Banner had given up trying to argue with his bipolar friend. “What’s up?”

“What’s up? What’s up with you? Why should anything be up? How’s it going?” He sat down at the small wooden table with Dr Banner, leaning in close. “What’s new in your life?”

He smiled with pride. “Actually, things are going really well here. I’ve just started helping out with this clinic; we’re giving antiretrovirals in small villages that can’t afford it. I’ve set up my own little lab; there’s not really anyone else here who can look at blood samples, but with my help…”

“Yeah, I don’t care about that.” Tony interrupted impatiently. “I mean, great, woo, go cure AIDS, but I really came here to talk about my problems.”

“Alright.” Bruce was too tired to argue with him. Maybe some other day.

“And I thought you couldn’t practice medicine anymore, anyway.” Stark uttered, fidgeting wildly.

“I can’t practice as a doctor, but I can still help out. But you were going to tell me something about your problems.”

“Oh, yeah.” Stark pulled out a hip flask. “You want some?”

“Not right now, thanks Tony.”

“As I was saying…” he leaned in even closer, the scent of scotch pervading the air. “SHIELD has a mole.”

“What? You mean someone’s working from the inside?”

“No, I mean one of those little fuzzy things. Live underground. Eat bugs and all kinds of crap. Of course I mean that kind of mole!”

“That’s crazy! Who are they working for? Does Fury know?” Bruce was waking up now.

“Pretty sure he doesn’t know. If he knew, they’d know he knew, and then there’d be nothing to know.” Tony took a swig. “You know?”

“Now I do, but how do you know?” His head was spinning, possibly from Tony’s fumes.

“Well, I was hacking into SHIELD’s files, right, and there was a discrepancy in one of the folders; count said there should have been more files than I saw. So I got Jarvis to patch it together.”

“And there was something in the missing file?”

“No, it was garbage; it was a copy half-deleted during my transfer.” He paused, watching his scientific colleague. “Don’t you get it? It was someone else copying the files, while I was hacking them! Just a fluke that I managed to find it, but no-one else should have been looking at those files, much less copying them.”

Bruce tried to assimilate this new knowledge, still stunned. “Wait, why are you telling me this? I’m in the middle of the African desert, what am I going to do about it?”

“I just needed to tell someone. If I tell Fury the whole thing’s down the chute, and Cap’s got that whole: ‘no technology, it makes me uncomfortable’ thing going on. Plus Pep’s not talking to me, so…”

It was at that moment that Bruce Banner recognised the cry of a friend in need. “You know, I think I will have a drink. Just a sip. I’m not working today anyway.”

“It’s good stuff. Well, it should be for the money I’ve been spending on it.” He handed it over. “You got any ice?”

“No, Tony. There’s not much ice in the desert.” Banner smiled. “Jesus that’s strong!” he coughed violently.

“Yeah. That’s why I wanted the ice. Goes down smoother when it’s cold.” He stared around the dimly lit hut. “You didn’t want a hotel, huh?”

“I like the seclusion. It makes things safer for me…you know, with my problem...”

“How is the rage monster? Lean and green?” Tony asked, taking a swig of his drink.

“I’ve not seen him…” Banner tried to calm his throat after the burning alcohol “Not seen him since…you know. The alien invasion.”

“That’s good man! That’s real good! What is that, a year now?” Tony took Banner’s smile as a yes. “I feel like I should be giving you a sobriety chip or something.”

Banner laughed “I don’t think you’d be the one to give those out, Tony.”

“Maybe not, but you never know. The other day I got asked to speak at an international pacifist conference…thing.” He drained the last drops from the flask. “I had to say no; the irony there would just be too dangerous, the whole thing would probably explode.”

“Yeah, you’re not…Irony Man!” Dr Banner giggled at his own joke.

“What was that, man? That was terrible!” Stark frowned as the flask failed to yield any further alcohol. “I think I preferred it when you were just an incredible Sulk.” Tony’s face lit up and they both burst out in tears of laughter.

“What? That was even worse than mine!” Banner gasped for air. “Why are we laughing?”

Tony turned away and muttered. “I may have put a couple pills in the mix. Just a little. Don’t worry, I’m not flying.”

“Wait, you drugged me?” Banner asked, still grinning.

“Not really. I mean, I get stronger stuff at the gym.” Tony shifted in his seat. “And don’t even get me started on those charity galas. Coke on every toilet seat.” He smiled wistfully.

“You know that stuff’s not good for you.”

“Yeah yeah. Pep was always on my case about that kinda thing.”

“Was? Past tense?”

“I don’t even know man.” Stark stared at the tin roof. “She said everything was fine.”

“You must have messed up bad. Fine is like the death sentence. I’m sorry man.”

“I don’t even know anymore. But, hey, booze and pills with my homie! Am I right?”

“Maybe a bit less of the pills, but sure.” Banner smiled warmly. Stark needed him badly.

“So, what do you do for fun around here?” Stark asked. “I mean, not _you_ , obviously. What does one do for fun around here?”

“Why not me? I can be fun.”

“Really? What’s the wildest thing you’ve done lately? And I don’t mean jolly green you, I mean Bruce you.”

“I…uh…”

“Exactly. Now come on, let’s go party!”

Both stepped outside to find Tony Stark’s jet nestled on the horizon. Bruce was stupefied, staring at the great shining monstrosity of capitalism. Tony must have had the carbon footprint of a large Chinese province. “You know, Tony, you could do something good with your money. Like giving to charity?”

“What, like the whole AIDS thing? Nah, not my style. Bill’s all over that shit, I don’t wanna muscle in.” he clumsily unfolded his sunglasses. “Plus, you know, the whole safe sex thing, not my strongest suit dude.”

“Anything, just…I feel a bit guilty right now.”

“Nah, you should feel guilty when you get inside. I’ve got Cristal.”  
   


#### Part 3 – Caveat Emptor

“You know, for someone who claimed not to know how to play whist, you seem to keep winning.” Caitlyn noted as she shuffled the cards.  
“Does that irritate you?” Loki grinned a little.

“Of course. I hate losing.” She smiled. “I’ve always been the same. Mind you, you can’t really get through medical school unless you’re a little bit over-competitive.” She rapidly dealt the cards “Come on. Last hand.”

“You’re not going to like me, because I’m going to win.” He warned.

“I’ve got to beat you some time. It might as well be now.”

The tannoy called once again. _“Further to our previous message, regarding the delay to your service, essential maintenance is being carried out… once again, we would like to apologise, for the delay, to the service, here today…”_

Dr Black smiled “Do you think there might be a problem with the train? Possibly causing a delay to the service?”

Loki grinned. “You know, I’ve been beginning to suspect just as much.”

“This reminds me of this one old lady on one of the geriatric wards. She always said ‘ _At a time like this, what you need is a hard drink or a hard fuck._ ’” Dr Black slipped into laughter, and with a sigh continued “Which is probably the reason why she had tertiary syphilis and liver failure. Great woman though.”

“Are you trying to distract me?” Loki smiled, his mind swimming. “Because I swear, I am going to finish this game.”

“Trying? I’m bloody well succeeding.” She retorted. “Call it then.”

Loki lifted his card from the table, and paused a moment to speak. With a fizz and a dull hum, the train descended into darkness, and both burst into fits of laughter.

“I swear…” Caitlyn said. “I swear I’m not doing this.” She gasped as tears rolled down her cheeks. “Sorry. This is the funniest thing that’s happened to me in a while!”

She couldn’t see his face, but his spirited laughter was clear. “I think I can say the same.”

“On behalf, of the train service, we would like to apologise, for the temporary power loss, within the coach, of this service.” A man’s voice called from the front of the train. “We should have power back on, momentarily…” he paused contemplatively “…to this service.”

Loki laughed “That tops it.” He sighed, wiping the tears from his eyes. “That was amazing. I genuinely don’t remember the last time I laughed like this.” And suddenly, he felt her lips upon his. Her lips were soft, yet fuelled a fire deep inside, that he felt coursing through his body, searing. His hands found her face, her hair, and clasped her close. He felt every fibre of his being pulled towards her, with an endless charge. He pulled away, hands running down to her neck. How he wished he could see her. He felt the guilt, unexpected and crushing, of what he knew was coming. “Caitlyn. I’m not…I’m not good…for you.” Why guilty? Why now?

She whispered to him. “If I wanted what was good for me, I’d be married to some doctor, with two point four children.” Her hands gently clasped his. “But I don’t have time for someone who thinks of me as too fragile and wholesome to be allowed to make my own decisions. So treat me like an adult, and tell me the truth; do you want me or not?”

One act of selflessness was more than enough for Loki. If she chose to ignore his warning, what followed would be her own free choice. _Caveat emptor_.


	7. Patience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patience is a virtue, one which will have its just reward.

### Chapter 7 - Patience

#### Part 1 - Quite an Offer

The lights in the train fizzled back on, leaving the two of them staring at eachother. A hot glance passed between them, and Loki’s lips curled into a smile. “If you knew how much I want you, you should be afraid.”

“Afraid of what?” she asked, heart racing, skin tingling.

He calmly took his place next to her, whispering delicately into her ear. “Afraid you’ll never walk again.”

_Hooooollllyyy fuck. Was he threatening to kill her with sex? If so, what a way to go_. She could feel her cheeks flush. He had such a charismatic self-confidence, that she was sure would have made her go weak at the knees had she been standing.

She was thrown out of her daydreaming as the train grumbled back to life, jolting abruptly forward. _“Ladies and gentlemen, the repairs, to this service, have been completed, to this service. The next stop, of this service, will be New Road station, in approximately three minutes.”_

Loki made a mental note to kill the train driver in a most violent way. Bludgeoned to death always had such a satisfying feel.

“That’s quite an offer. Where did you say you were staying?”

#### Part 2 - Patience

He heard her breath catch as his hands slid up her skirt, exposing her warm thighs. He pressed himself closer, feeling that heat against his hips. It was an exquisitely sinful feeling, and he enjoyed every second of it. He slid slender fingers through her hair, pulling her face towards his. Their lips met in a writhing embrace as their bodies pressed against each other. She grazed his lip with her teeth, and he found himself wanting the bite. He wanted the pain and the release. This was nothing like the women of Asgard, who were just so pathetically compliant, no; this was more what he imagined Lady Sif would be like.

“I want you to fuck me hard.” She whispered into his ear, tugging the lobe with her teeth.

It was quite the coincidence; that was exactly how he’d like to fuck her. With both hands he tore open her blouse, buttons scattering in the distance. He backed her against the wall, sliding his hand down her body and between her legs, where his fingers found her warm, wet and inviting. The sound of her moan made his cock grow harder still. He held her against the wall and thrust his erection deep inside her. This time she moaned louder. He thrust again and again. “Oh, Fuck!” she cried. Her legs wrapped around his waist, she ran her hands beneath his shirt, fingernails scratching down his back. He let out a low groan. He smiled; he was being too easy on her.

He threw her onto his bed, where he took his time to slowly remove the remainder of her clothes. It amused him to watch her, wanting and unsatisfied. “Patience.” He almost laughed, he could feel it on his lips.

Her whole body ached for it. “Oh, fuck you, and fuck your patience!” she tried to sit up, but he easily pinned her down with one hand. “Don’t make me hurt you.” She warned.

“Hurt me?” he laughed. “What makes you think that would be a deterrent?” he exposed her milky skin, fingers tracing across it.

“I was wrong, you are a fucking psycho.” She lay exasperated as he teased her.

“And yet, you’d like to be fucking a fucking psycho.” This would pay her back for her comments to him. “I wonder what that makes you…”

“It makes me very annoyed.”

“Annoyed.” He repeated, staring, planning. “I think I like you annoyed.” He moved his hand to her face, her lips, placing a graceful finger into her mouth.

She bit down, at first gently, then hard. Rather than daunt him, it seemed to excite him further. He withdrew his finger, flipping her over onto her stomach. He brought her hips up to his and thrust hard. She felt all of his length fill her, stretching, pushing, pulsating. Again and again he thrust, her body weakening from pleasure. She felt her body shake and throb with a pulsating white heat.

He held on till the final beat, then poured himself into her. He lay beside her, hot and panting. And smiling; above all else, smiling.

“Holy fuck.” She whispered.


	8. Civilised

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after the night before, and several regrets begin to surface.

###  Chapter 8 - Civilised 

#### Part 1- Sleeping

Loki stirred awake. He hadn’t even realised he had been sleeping. He never normally slept on Asgard, and since his exile he had found little reason to make himself vulnerable. Magic was more than enough to replenish him. He glanced to the clock, 6:24; he had been asleep at least three hours. _Strange_. He thought. There was something to be said for the post-coital state. It was very relaxing indeed.

He turned his head to look at her: his conquest, naked in his bed. He drew the hair back from her face. She lay there, so calm, so pure. It would be so easy to snap her pale little neck. But he still didn’t have his answers; that curious influence she seemed to hold, that resistance to his mind control, none of it had been explained. Still, that insolence alone was enough to make him consider it. To make fun of him, as though she had the right, as though they were equals. He ran his fingers over her neck; mortal bones were so brittle. It took very little pressure to snap an arm or a leg, and oh, how they screamed. To experience such extremes of pain; it must be maddening.

She shifted in her sleep, hand reaching out, searching for him, finding and caressing his chest. A smile flitted across her sleeping face. Loki started, hand immediately jolting from her neck. This was unexpected; there was something strangely comforting in it, a warm, gentle hand lying upon his chest. No malice, no agenda, just a hand. This was…nice.  


Still, he couldn’t waste time just lying there. He summoned his projected form, leaving his body behind, and slipping once more into the world of reflection.

  
   


#### Part 2 - "Dating"

Bruce Banner stared out of the window of the luxurious jet. He was still buzzed from the ‘pills’ that he had been spiked with, and the champagne that cost more a bottle than most people would make this month. He had the unsettling realisation that this must be what it was like to _date_ Tony Stark.

“Hi there. Tony Stark. Genius playboy philanthropist. No. Not the other one.” Stark called down the jet’s on-board phone. “Hi. I’ve got my little plane here. It’d be great if I could land it in your airspace before we run out of fuel. Kay? Thanks.”

“Fuel? We’re running out of fuel?” Dr Banner asked nervously.

“Calm down Brucey. I’ve got enough in here to fly the globe, but things get done faster when you drop in words like _‘crash’_ and _‘disaster’_.” He slurred, evidencing the extent of his drinking. “ _‘Culpability’_. You like Switzerland, Bruce?”

“I haven’t been…”

“Course you haven’t.” Tony interjected. “Sorry. I sometimes forget everyone’s not me. Love the mountains; they’ve got the best bars, and the great thing is you’re up so high the altitude gives it a little extra kick.”

“Aren’t you supposed to go skiing first?” Banner asked.

“Pfft. Yeah. If you’re a tourist. I’m what you might call a party-centred traveller.”

Dr Banner, despite his inebriated state, was beginning to notice the growing manic state Tony was entering. “What do you think Pep would say about all this?”

“I know what she’d say. I know exactly what she’d say; she’d say _‘Tony, I don’t want you to have any fun. Fun is bad.’_.”

“I don’t think she’d say that.” Banner chose his words carefully, or as carefully as he could muster. “She cares about you.”

“I know man, but lately it seems all I can do is mess up around her. I don’t even know what I’ve done.” He sighed, recounting the night’s events. “I showed up late, sure, but she didn’t mind. And I was wearing the wrong thing, like I always am, but that didn’t matter. We talked, and she laughed, and we were happy. You know? And then when Jarvis sent me the info, she just freaked the hell out. And you know, she wouldn’t even let me apologise, like I didn’t deserve to apologise, like I don’t get to be sorry. Like she just gets to leave, and that’s that.”

Banner felt he should offer a hug. This was the kind of situation where people had hugs, but he wasn’t quite sure how it worked. Did he ask first, or just dive in there? After much deliberation he settled for a friendly pat on the arm. It felt incredibly forced.

“Jesus, even for a nerd you’re socially awkward.” Tony complained, but there was a hint of gratitude nonetheless. “Thanks bro. Appreciate it.” The phone rang out, and Tony answered immediately. “Hiya. Yeah. Tony Stark. I know, big moment. Great. Thanks then, bye.” He hung up. “What did I tell ya Brucey boy? I get things done. And you can take your hand off me now; it’s getting super weird bro.”

_He means thank you_. Bruce reminded himself. _Tony means thank you_.  
   


#### Part 3 - The Morning After

Caitlyn’s phone rang, immediately jolting her awake. “Shit. Shit, what time is it?” she found she was asking herself. The man she had woken up next to, whose name she couldn’t quite recall yet, didn’t seem to respond. She laid her hand on his chest; it was fine, heart still beating, still breathing; just a real deep sleeper. She grabbed her phone. “Hi. Hi it’s Caitlyn.”

_“Caitlyn, are you ok? You sound a bit…”_ Stephano broke off on the other end of the phone.

She looked at the clock on her phone. Shit. She didn’t have enough time to get home first. “What’s up?” She whispered, searching for her clothes. Underwear first.

_“Dr Holly wanted to have a chat before you start your shift, but no-one has your new number. Are you alright? Why are you whispering?”_

“It’s fine.” She found the torn blouse. Shit. She hadn’t quite thought that one through. “Em, could you pick me up a pair of scrubs Stephano? One of those mornings, you know.” She clipped her bra on, pressing the phone to her ear with her shoulder.

_“Scrubs? Caitlyn! You slut!”_ he giggled _“Glad you’ve found yourself a hobby.”_

“Oh, shut up. I’ve got to go now. Bye.” She unceremoniously hung up the phone, pulling on her skirt. She realised she wasn’t quite sure how to get the train from here, or where _here_ was for that matter. The blouse gaped open as she pulled it on. She thanked god that she had brought a jacket.

“Good morning.” He smiled. “Going somewhere?”

Shit. What was his name? He looked so good lying there. There couldn’t have been an ounce of fat on that toned body. She didn’t answer, closing the jacket over her open cleavage. He stood up, shamelessly naked, gloriously naked. John! His name was John. She felt a little guilty at what had caused her to remember. “I’ve got to go to work, John.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, calmly watching her.

“Pretty sure.” She pulled on one shoe, looking for the other. _Don’t look at the hot naked man. It will only distract you._

“I could make you stay.” There was something so rich and dark in that statement.

Oh. He definitely could. “Maybe some other time.” She found the remaining shoe, then headed in the direction that must be the way out of the bedroom. There was her bag; in the middle of an incredibly sparse living room. There wasn’t even a single book. Very utilitarian. It occurred to her it must be underground – not a single window, and she vaguely recalled descending stairs. She needed to stop doing this. One of these days she was going to get murdered.

“Is that a promise?” he asked softly, leaning in the doorway. Still naked.

“Sure.” She murmured, opening the door and quickly escaping.

Loki laughed to himself. How strange these Midgardian women were. How amusing. What was said and done the night before seemed to summon blushing and embarrassment in the light of day. For such a duality to exist in a _‘civilised’_ place; it was the utmost hypocrisy. It was fun to play with. If there was one thing he could say for himself, it was that embarrassment was not one of his follies.

Still, he must concentrate on other things. His contact within the military had proven useful after all; he had his ammunition.


	9. Interrogation

### Chapter 9 - Interrogation

#### Part 1 - Mr Angry and Dr Holly

“Thanks, Stephano. You’re a lifesaver.” Caitlyn said, emerging from the changing room.

“Tell me _everything_.” Stephano grinned. “What’s his name?”

“John. Something.” She realised she had no idea of his last name, and very little memory of where he lived.

“Oh, you little slut.” He teased. “Well, at least this’ll shut those nurses up. They thought you might be a lesbian.”

“Hey, there’s still time.” She rolled up the hem of the trousers. “Don’t these come in a small?”

“That is the small. And don’t change the subject. What was he like?”

She blushed.

“That good, huh?” Stephano laughed.

“Oh, shut up Stephano. Where’s Dr Holly?”

“He’s up on the ward, talking with that American man from the other day…” Stephano paused “It’s not him, is it? The American man?” he giggled at her expression. “What? I think he’d make a firm but gentle lover. Ow!” he laughed as she punched him on the arm. “Hey! These arms are needed to work miracles.”

“It’s a good thing you don’t need to use your head.” She muttered, storming down the corridor.

“Hah! I heard that.” He called. “David and I are rooting for you!”

She mumbled to herself all the way to the ward, cursing her idiotic decisions and weak will, and also wondering why she had been considered a lesbian. Passing visitors jumped out of her way. If there was one thing to be said for wearing scrubs, it was this; people gave you a wide berth. She entered the ward, taking her bleep from behind the desk. She saw the consultant, Dr Holly, emerge from behind a doorway. “Sorry, Dr Holly, I was…”

“Oh, don’t worry about that Dr Black. Mr Stephano told me he was teaching you some suturing techniques in theatre, but I do wish you’d asked me first. I might have got you a certificate for your portfolio.” Dr Holly’s voice was a few parts David Attenborough, with a hint of wartime-pilot, and his face gleamed with a kindness and enthusiasm that seemed impossible for one so aged. “Might I have a chat with you? Before we speak with Mr Angry here.”

“Fury.” Nick Fury objected from inside the room.

“Oh, I am sorry Mr Fury. You know, at my age I’ve simply met so many people…” he smiled, closing the door on the simmering American. “Now, what I want to know is why didn’t anyone contact me when this man came to the ward?” he asked kindly.

“I didn’t want to bother you Dr Holly.” She replied.

“Oh, yes, but Dr Black, this is exactly the thing you should be bothering me with. When people like this come over here, throwing their weight about, you don’t want to get in their way. I’m big and ugly enough to go toe-to-toe with these uppity Yanks. That’s part of my job. It’s not yours. I don’t want you getting yourself into sticky situations at this point in your career. Alright?”

“Yes Dr Holly.”

“You’re a good doctor, Caitlyn, and you’re very good with patients, but you need to learn to play the game if you want to become a consultant. It’s all changed since the bad old days, and people like this can have a real impact on a promising young career.”

“I understand Dr Holly.” She didn’t know why, but she could feel a lump rising in her throat.

“Did you want to talk about that incident the other day? The failed resuscitation?”

“No, thank you. I’m fine.” She lied.

“Alright. But if you do, that is something that would not bother me.” He smiled a wrinkled old grin. “Shall we go see Mr Angry?”

“Fury.”

“I know that.” He winked, pushing the door with a furrowed hand. “Now then, Mr Fury, I understand you want to talk to the children about a very important matter, is that correct?”

“Yes.” Fury grumbled. It was amazing the calming effect Dr Holly seemed to have on people. The angry American was reduced to only simmering levels of rage.

“And you’ve spoken to the legal team, and they have explained that, since the children on this ward are, in effect _‘in loco parentis’_ , that we cannot allow them to talk to you without the relevant legal framework and the presence of a member of our staff. Well, as long as Dr Black agrees, I think she would be the perfect candidate to shoulder that responsibility.” He smiled.

Fury shifted in his chair “I suppose that would be alright.”

“Yes Dr Holly.” Caitlyn agreed.

“Excellent. Well, I’ll be off. Dr Black, I leave you _in loco consultare_!” He beamed, wandering off to his next destination.

“Hello again, Mr Fury.”

“Dr Black.” He replied coolly.

“Just a few things first, Mr Fury. These are children, some of whom are very sick, so if I don’t think any of them are up to talking to you, or don’t want to in the first place, I’m going to respect that. Secondly, please don’t use any strong language. I don’t want these kids learning something new and insulting. And third, and I don’t believe I even have to say this, but please don’t bring a gun into a hospital, much less a paediatric ward.”

“Fine.” He exhaled. “I’ll hide it, ok?”

It was a step in the right direction. “Just one more thing, Mr Fury. Do you mind talking about your eye?”

“Why?” he asked.

“Oh. You’ll see.”

   


#### Part 2 - Interrogation

“Did you poke it with a pencil?” a small boy asked Fury, while poking his own eye.

“No I did not.” He replied sternly.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I am sure.” Fury had to guard himself, he could feel the pressure burning in his skull.

“Because when I poked my eye with a pencil, I had to wear one of those.” The child persisted. “It’s ok.”

Fury smiled calmly while clenching his fist under the table.

 

The next kid was a little girl, who stared in wonder. “Mr Angry, did your other eye explode because you were so angry?”

“No…”

“And it went BOOM and there was goo everywhere, and now you have to have the patch on to keep your brains from falling out?”

“No.”

These discussions were not as beneficial as he had hoped. Also, as it turned out, children didn’t really care to give a straight answer to a simple question.

 

A hyperactive boy with a drip in his arm asked “Was it eaten by a dinosaur?”

“How old do you think I am, kid?” Fury asked, exasperated.

“About a hundred.”

Fury sighed “Have you met Dr Holly? How old do you think he is?”

“Hmm.” The kid considered it thoughtfully. “Six hundred and forty two. And a half.”

Dr Black led the kid away. While he was leaving the kid kept asking _‘Well, how old is he then?’_.

 

A moody teenager, skinny but draped in a baggy jumper stared at him scornfully. She said little, but wore a hole through the cuff of the jumper with a painted thumb-nail.

“Have you seen anything unusual in this hospital?” Fury asked, as he had done all the others.

“Yeah.” She muttered. “You.”

“Why are you in here?” Fury asked.

“I don’t have to answer that. Dr Black said.”

“I know. But I just wanted to know you can tell me if you want.” Relate to the captive; that was a trick he had learnt back in basic training. He saw Dr Black shaking her head and waving her arms in the corner of his vision. “I don’t mind. I’d like to know more about you.”

The girl grinned “I fucked up some black guy with one eye. Then I cut his fucking face!” she screamed. “That enough for you? HUH!?”

“Ok. Jane? Do you want to go back to your room?” Dr Black asked calmly, careful not to touch her.

“Is that enough? Fucking PIG!” she clawed out at him. As her sleeves slipped down he saw hundreds of tiny red lines carved into her skin.

“Come on Jane.” Dr Black smiled, leading her away. “I’m sure he didn’t mean it.”

Nick Fury sat, slightly shaken, trying to reassess the situation.

“Sorry. I should have warned you about her.” Dr Black said, closing the door. “She did the same thing to me when she came in.”

“That is one bat...bat-crazy” he had to censor himself “…person.” He hadn’t realised just how limited his vocabulary was without curses.

“Do you want a break? I can take you to the coffee room. It used to be called cafeteria, but since all that’s working is the one coffee machine, we call it the coffee room.” She offered.

She was trying to be nice to him. God, he must look pathetic.

“Come on. You might as well. You’re only half way through.” She smiled.

He sighed, rolling his eye. “Might as well.”  
 

Nick Fury sighed over what barely passed for coffee. Jet lag was fighting him back. Just as he took his slow sip from the little paper cup, his headset buzzed. “This is Director Fury.” He answered.

_“Director Fury, Stark’s patching himself through to your tablet. Just thought I’d let you know.”_ The same tech-savvy technician stuttered. He knew he was going to get yelled at later.

“God damn Tony Stark.” Fury muttered, pulling out his tablet. “What is it this time?”

Stark waved from the video-call _“Hiya there, Nicky. We seem to have got ourselves in a little snafu with customs…Hey, who’s that? Turn me round. I wanna say hi.”_

Fury grumbled, rotating the tablet to face towards Dr Black, who sat staring blankly.

_“Hiya there, Tony Stark. Stark enterprises. You may have heard of me. Hi.”_

“No. Sorry.” She said.

_“Come on.”_ He laughed off her reply. _“Tony Stark. Iron Man. You’ve heard of me.”_

“I don’t really follow the news in America. Is that some kind of cooking thing?” she asked.

_“What?”_ he asked, agitated. _“No, not…no. Not the Iron Chef. Iron Man! Tony Stark – Iron Man. Superhero!”_

“Sorry.”

_“Unbelievable. Turn me back. You know, this was an epic moment in your life.”_ He called through the speaker that now faced Fury. _“Where do you find these people? I seriously want to know.”_

“Stark. You were gonna tell me how you got your ass thrown in jail.” Fury barked.

_“Not jail, just customs. It’s not like it’s a real jail. See? Not handcuffs, we’re still free men.”_

“Who is that with you? Is that Dr Banner?” Nick Fury asked, incredulous.

“Dr Banner?” Caitlyn stirred “Not Dr Bruce Banner, by any chance?”

“You know him?” Fury and Stark asked simultaneously.

She moved round to see the screen.

_“This is unbe-freaking-leivable.”_ Tony moaned.

“Dr Banner? Hi.” She smiled at the screen. “It’s great to see you in person.”

_“You know me?”_ he asked meekly with a huge grin on his face.

“Sort of. I guess you could say I’m a fan.” She blushed.

_“…What of?”_ he was beaming.

“Your work. I mean…I was volunteering in South India, in this little village, and all anyone could talk about was how great this ‘Dr Banner’ was. The way they talked about you, I half expected you to be some kind of legend rather than a real person.”

His eyes lit up _“Oh, thanks. It’s great to meet you too. I didn’t even know I had a fan. I don’t know about legend…”_

“If I could just interrupt this little chit-chat.” Fury grunted.

_“Please do.”_ Stark added.

“What shit have you got yourself in this time?”

Tony jutted his head in the frame. _“Hey, this, no, it’s not a problem. I have money. What I wanted to let you know is that Jarvis just picked up a few more of those power-surges in your area. See? Now you can get that info in real-time. Isn’t that great? Thanks Tony; that’s what you say now.”_

“Thank you Tony. Is there anything else?” Fury stated in a monotone. 

_“Yeah, there’s a whole cluster of those surges in a little area around some forest. I don’t know what’s going on up there, but I’m pretty sure the teddy-bears aren’t channel-surfing.”_

“I’ll look into it.”

_“…thank you Tony…”_

“Don’t push it Stark.” Fury warned, hanging up the call. 

 

#### Part 3 - Ice Cream

Nick Fury warmed a little as he saw he had reached the last few kids. He had always thought he had a way with getting people to talk, but he now realised that kids weren’t people. They were more like talking monkeys. Terrorists, aliens, psychopaths and robots: all that shit he could deal with, but kids were way outside his area of expertise. To be honest, he wasn’t sure he liked doctors either; they had a way of doing what they wanted and making you think it was your idea. Plus, he was pretty sure they knew more ways to kill a man than most of his agents did. Then there was that way they looked at you, made you feel like you ought to tell them everything, open up. He was not comfortable with that.

“Alright Simon?” Dr Black asked, re-entering the room with a small boy, who had a large bandage on his neck. “Now, this is Mr Fury. He just wants to ask you some questions. You’re not in trouble, and you don’t have to answer anything if you don’t want to, ok?”

The boy nodded, rubbing his throat.

“Hello Simon.” Fury smiled in a way he hoped was friendly. “My name is Nicholas Fury. I was wondering if you might be able to help me.”

“Ok…” the boy rasped.

“Are you alright there? You need some water?” Fury offered.

“Dr Caitlyn…can I have ice-cream now?” he asked her hopefully.

“Of course you can. Did you want chocolate chip?”

He nodded. “And, can Mr Fury have some?” he whispered, glancing at Fury’s face “He’s hurt too.”

“Of course. Is chocolate chip alright with you, Mr Fury?”

“…That would be fine, thank you Dr Black.”

“I’ll just get Mr Stephano to sit in…” she said, leaning through the opened door. “Stephano, can you…?” she gestured. “I’ve just got to go get something.”

Through the door emerged Mr Stephano; a tall tanned man in scrubs, with a wide grin. “Hello again Simon. Mr Fury. I am Mr Stephano, paediatric surgeon in the making.” His accent was one Fury wasn’t familiar with, it was buoyant yet erratic. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll just be sitting in the corner. I promise I’ll be as quiet as a mouse.”

“Good to meet you Mr Stephano.” Fury nodded.

“Mr Stephano got engaged.” Simon whispered.

“Congratulations.”

“To a man.” Simon continued.

“That’s right.” Stephano smiled.

“That’s because he’s gay.” Simon told Fury.

“Thanks kid, I kinda got that.” Fury fought the urge to roll his eye. “What I want to know, is if you’ve seen anything around here that you can’t explain; anything strange?”

Simon thought hard for a while. “Seen anything?” he asked.

“Anything at all. Anything strange.” Fury repeated.

“Hmm…no. Not seen anything strange.” Simon reflected.

“Seen anything, or heard anything, or just felt something wasn’t right…” Fury offered.

Simon shrugged. “There was the laughing man.”

“Laughing man?” Fury jolted “What laughing man?”

“I don’t know.” Simon rasped, looking frightened.

“No kid, you haven’t done anything wrong.” Fury wasn’t sure how to stop the kid from crying.

Thankfully at that moment Dr Black knocked on the door. “Here’s that ice cream. Simon, what’s the matter?”

“Nothing’s wrong. He was just telling me about the laughing man, and I was letting him know it’s ok, and no-one’s mad at him. Now Simon. Tell me what you can remember.”

“Dr Caitlyn was there. She sang the cuckoo song, and then I heard someone laughing, but I couldn’t see him. She went and there was no-one there.”

“Cuckoo song?” Fury asked.

“I’m just going to go. Let me know if you need me.” Stephano waved.

“It’s a magic song.” Simon smiled, taking a small bite of ice-cream. “When you sing it nothing bad can happen. And you can be happy because you know everything’s ok.” He looked to her. “I worked it out Dr Caitlyn. He’s not happy because he’s king. He’s king because he’s happy.” He grinned.

“That’s exactly right Simon. Well done. You’re very clever, you know; not many people get that bit of the song.”

He beamed at the praise.

“Now Simon. Is there anything else you remember about the laughing man you heard?” Fury interrupted.

Simon shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

“Well, did he have a voice like mine, or like Mr Stephano, or anyone you can think of?”

Simon paused. “I…I can’t remember.”

“That’s ok little man.” Fury said, handing him a card. “If you do remember, you can phone that number there, alright?”

Simon nodded.

“Thank you Simon. And thank you Dr Black, for the ice cream.” Fury acknowledged them both, mentally preparing for what came next. A full investigation, on the hallucinations of a child: he couldn’t shut the place down, but maybe he could get a few of his team in, to check things out. He could superficially pretend to be investigating the power surges, or even a new piece of technology. Stark was always building crap like that; it was about time he came in useful. He would contact Stark, he would set up cameras. But first, he would eat his damn ice cream.


	10. Perspectives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki searches for answers, and Tony tries to drink his problems away.

### 

Chapter 10

#### 

Part 1 - The Scholar

“The darkened one will emerge from the night, and will seek to poison the hearts of mortals. He will bring the seasons of cold and darkness. That which grows in the earth will wilt and die. Those which walk upon its surface shall suffer disease and decay. He will reign over them, but they will not be conquered. They shall have a great champion; the son of Odin and Freyja will rise. He will wield the weapon of Odin, and he will conquer the darkness. The dark one will know his destroyer, and shall not fight, and cannot fight, his fate.”

“You are mistaken.” Loki hissed. “Read it again.”

“I can’t change what is written. But why place such importance on an ancient text? One of many hundreds of failed predictions by self-proclaimed prophets and mystics…” The scholar lifted his glasses and rubbed his brow.

“Read it again!”

“A…a more literal translation might be… _A dark cloud passes over and without sun all grow sick. Then the sunlight, given by the gods, will shine through._ ” He stumbled “However I read it, the message won’t change.”

“Then there must be more; something is missing. Find it.” Loki scowled. He almost wished he hadn’t found the ancient text. The scholar was right, there were many like it; many fake prophecies, but this one was different. He could taste the magic in it, cold and clear and something so familiar. And yet, it foretold his failure at the hands of Thor. That was unacceptable. “Mjolnir, the weapon of Odin; what happens if I take it from Thor? If he doesn’t have the hammer, can he destroy me?”

The scholar readjusted his glasses, jumping back into the dense text. “Um…here: _the weapon of Odin will destroy the darkness…and none other can match it…_ ”

“None other.” Loki repeated. “And who may wield the weapon of Odin?” he asked with growing feverish curiosity. “Surely, not only Thor? Thor is not eternal. There must be others.”

The scholar flicked furiously through the text, dust wafting through the room. “ _...whosoever shows himself to be worthy of the weapon of Odin…_ ”

“Worthy how? In what sense?” Many, including himself, had tried to lift Mjolnir as it had lay in the earth, but only Thor had managed to move it. Only as he had lain on the edge of death, the final barrier between Loki and his destiny. “Pure of heart and noble of deed?” Loki’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Empty of mind and devoid of vision?” He cursed the ineptitude of those around him. There must be a way to improve their minds without use of the Tesseract. He felt as though he were the only one to see sense.

“ _…to use it; the action must be borne not of hate, nor glory nor honour; only to serve, as the allfather himself must serve._ ”

Loki snorted with laughter “To serve! To serve his enemies’ heads on a platter.” To serve punishment on a false son while his people looked on. To serve his own ends, taking and giving life as he dared. Giving lives where none were asked. Where none ever dared ask. In the cold wastes of a dying world, brought to its knees by Odin…who serves.

“It is only a legend, my lord. A fable of good triumphing over evil. A story.” The scholar shook. Despite his allegiance he was still afraid of the pain Loki could inflict.

“Do you think I need your condolences, you pathetic worm?” Loki turned his inner spite towards the trembling man. He could have assured his compliance through brain-washing, but there was something in the sight of a frightened supplicant that thrilled him. The controlled had no fear; they wouldn’t scream when he broke their bones or sliced through tender flesh. This measly scholar had studied him, worshipped him, and been all too grateful to merely bask in his presence.

“I am sorry Loki. I am not worthy of this task.” He was on the verge of tears, head placed at Loki’s feet. “I am unworthy of your confidence.”

Loki smiled, kneeling and raising the head of his scholar. “Shh. I forgive you.”

The scholar smiled hopefully. Loki watched with joy as he cut it short.

“But I must be sure you will try harder.” He drew a small dagger from his pocket. “To forgive you, I must ensure you do not disappoint me again. You do want to earn this from me, do you not?”

“Y…yes…of course…” the scholar stammered, eyes fixated on the slightly dulled blade.

Loki passed the blade to him. “Then take this, and carve your own forgiveness.” He smiled “Show me your devotion.”

“I…” the man shook.

“Why do you hesitate?” Loki enquired calmly.

“I fear p…pain.”

“Oh, come. Those whom the gods love need not fear pain.” He delighted in the agony written on the man’s face. “You know why I ask this of you; it is because I require your complete devotion. Nothing less.”

“Yes, master Loki.” The man assented, face a deathly pale, eyeing the blade, turning it in his shaking hands.

“I know you do not wish to disappoint me.” Loki stated, rising to his feet before the still crouched man. With little more than a second glance he turned and left the room, grinning wildly at the thoughts now spinning in his head. In only a blink, he stepped through a hidden dark curtain between the worlds, back to his busy workers.  
   


#### Part 2 - Scientists on a Mountain

Stark grumbled to himself. He was still unhappy despite engaging in two of his favourite activities: drinking and more drinking. “I still just don’t get it. How could she know you?”

“And not you?” Banner asked, trying to remain apathetic but grinning wholeheartedly inside. Tony was right; the altitude was definitely getting to him.

“Exactly. But not even that. They have posters of me all over the freaking world. I’ve even got a day named after me.” He tossed a lonely ice cube over the perch of the mountain lodge. “I mean, it’s not like, an international thing or anything, but still!”

“You think she was lying?”

“You know what? Yeah. I do.” He waved for another round, despite the fact that Banner had barely sipped his. “I bet Fury set the whole thing up just to get at me. He’s been pissed since the whole ‘ _hacking_ ’ thing.” The increasing frequency of sloppy airquotes was a good indicator that Tony was on the verge of collapse, but that wouldn’t stop him trying even harder to outdo his liver.

“But you did hack him.”

“Yeah…but I mean, that’s me. He can’t expect anything else.” He gave the bartender an obscenely large tip in dollars. “I’m Tony freaking Stark. I’m Iron Man! I’m not going to just sit there and play house, and just be a nobody. I’m not going to cosy up in my little bunker waiting for the end of the world. I’m going to go out there, and fight the good fight, because dammit, that’s what I do!” he slammed the glass down on the table. “And if she can’t understand it…”

“…are we still talking about Fury?”

“Hmm…” Tony inspected his glass. “Probably not.”

Banner tried his best to be warm and fuzzy. “…do you wanna…talk about it?”

“Are you serious? Is that what’s happening right now?” Stark asked, staring oddly at Banner. “Are you asking me about my feelings?”

“Yeah?” Banner wasn’t sure whether it was a rhetorical question. “I mean…if you don’t want to, it’s completely…”

“Augh. Let’s see.” Tony rapped his fingers along the glass. “I feel angry. I feel betrayed. I feel a little insulted to be honest, that you would think this was why I hauled you up out of Nairobi…”

“Namibia.”

“Right, that’s what I said.” He straightened from his slouch. “That you would think that I wouldn’t just wanna hang out with my bro. Drink some scotch, party hard, you know? Share some joy from the awesome that is my life.”

“My mistake. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well…” Tony tried to search for another cutting phrase, but the fatigue was setting in, oozing around the corners of his vision. “You think…you think she’d take me back?” He felt a lump in his throat, his eyes beginning to sting, although he couldn’t be sure whether that was from the exhaustion.

“Of course!” He said without a second thought. “She loves you, man.” This was it; this was the moment for friendly contact. A supportive gesture. A man hug. He pulled Stark out of his chair, embraced him, and thumped him between the shoulder blades. “She loves you.”

On the slopes of a mountain on a summer evening, there stood the two scientists, occasional teammates, and friends; pissed as newts and full of sentiment. Stark could barely put a sentence together, and so he settled for a simple “Gay.”  
   


#### Part 3 - Perspectives

Loki returned to his borrowed accommodation in the dead of night, sadly too late to meet Caitlyn. Perhaps it was for the best; he didn’t want to scare her away. Not yet. Not when things had so dramatically swung in his favour. He allowed himself to slip into indulgent fantasy; she would arrive at his door, dressed only in black lace that clung to her as though wet. She would be wild and full of want, craving him, lusting for him, begging for him for that sweet release. She would dance for him, seducing him, sliding her body against his in mimic of the passions craved, teeth grazing the skin of his neck. And he would deny her. He would tease and taunt her, and bring her to the brink…and deny her. He would lie her on top of him, pinning her arms above her head to prevent her from finding her own release. He would stroke and scratch and cause her hurt. Because he could. Because he desired it. Because she wanted it too.

He exhaled slowly through clenched teeth, beginning to curse the hour for being so late. If he hadn’t stopped to examine the bleeding scholar…but it was something so delectable that he couldn’t resist; the man wincing, blood seeping through a makeshift bandage. There it was: the flesh image of Loki’s own name in runic script. It was rather beautiful. He stroked the man’s hair, thanking him for his loyalty, holding him as he would a wounded animal. _“I will do better, master Loki.”_ the man had said. _“I know you will, my child.”_ Loki replied.

Oh, what it would be to have a whole faction of mortals, worshiping him as the scholar did. To have her worship him. To have her bow at his feet. He couldn’t refrain from another glance at her, perhaps pining for him, cursing his absence, desiring him. He left his body behind and entered that mirror world, slipping through cold and empty glass. He searched for her at the address his workers had found for her. From across the road he saw the lights were on.

She sat at a cluttered desk. From the dampness of her hair he could tell she had already bathed, a fact he was disappointed with. She wore only a light silk robe that hung loosely open across her breasts. A single water droplet slid down in a path he himself would like to tread. Rather than mourning his absence, though, she seemed preoccupied with other tasks. One hand held two sticks, with which she lifted unfamiliar food from a small carton. The other absent-mindedly typed on a computer, while she read from a paper that lay between the two. In addition that music-playing device was plugged into her ears, to which she was intermittently humming. If she was thinking of him, she was masking it very well.

“But that doesn’t make sense.” She murmured to herself, flicking back the pages of the paper. “Where are you?” she pulled a pen from behind the food receptacle “ _…with the record selection and my mirror’s reflection…_ ” she began to sing. She picked up the two sticks and drummed against the desk, then the computer. “There it is! You transplanted them first, you tricky devils!” she stood from the chair and spun around the room, hips swaying. Surely she must know he was there. She smiled in wild celebration, jumping around in that thin and loose garment, diverting his mind to other wild things. To his surprise she moved to the mirror through which he was watching, and she smiled to him in such a joyful way that he found himself a little shaken. She couldn’t see him. She couldn’t possibly see him. She seemed to almost mock him with that happiness. If nothing else, she was decidedly unperturbed by his absence.

He had to leave, to gain some respite and some perspective, returning to his body exactly as he had left it. Listening to her had upset his balance, with emotions running wild. One part of him wanted to steal her away for his pleasure, and another, darker part simply wanted to watch her bleed. He wasn’t steady enough to be in her presence, not after that. He thought of what might have been, had she not been alone. Intrigue be damned, he would have slaughtered them both. He would not share her. He would rather she be dead.

He conjured up a second fantasy. This would be a different world, one where he was revered for the God he was. They would worship him and fear him. She would be given to appease him; a sacrifice to stem the rage of the all-powerful God, Loki. She would be bound to a tree, dressed in a pure, sheer white dress with ribbons woven through her hair. She would wait there, trembling, for the wicked one to appear. He would slip through the darkness, just out of the corner of her vision, observing her. She would pant, wide eyed, trying to convince herself there was nothing out there; only then would he make himself known. Clad in his battle armour and golden horns he would approach out of the night; the great demon, there to claim her soul. At first she would fear him, fight his touch, but then she would succumb. She would cry his name, his true name, as she unravelled, as he took her maidenhead. He would make her willing and so very grateful.

Loki felt a sudden pang of anger. He ended the fantasy by slitting her throat and leaving her for the wolves. She had been happy without him. That stung fiercely. It was as though she had been taunting him, mocking his constant fixations on her. It was all so unpalatable. In the midst of all this unrest he found his resolve. He opened the dark curtains once more, and stepped though, to the foot of her bed.

There she lay, soft and still. He had wanted to shock her, to hurt her, to drive her mad. But as he faced the sleeping woman he felt a gentler longing. He lay delicately on the bed, careful not to wake her, his body following the curve of hers, separated only by a breath. His fingers traced the curve of her hips, her waist, as he inhaled deeply the perfumed oils in which she had bathed. “Tell me…” he whispered. “Tell me what makes you different from the others.” He hand stroked her soft hair. “Tell me, Caitlyn.”


	11. Heat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hottest day of the year brings nightmares for Dr Black.

### Chapter 11 – Heat

#### Part 1 - Nightmares

Caitlyn awoke with a start, covered in a cold sweat. She couldn’t quite remember this nightmare, but she had an idea about the context. It was always the same. She’d be walking somewhere, minding her own business, and then she’d come across sand; an unexplained beach without any evidence of being by the ocean. She’d walk barefoot across it, and she’d come across something cold with a waxy consistency; yellow dead hands with black-tinged rotting fingernails, creeping up out of the sand. She would trip and fall and they would be everywhere, stinking of formaldehyde and slow rot. The worst was when they were on her face. It would never be anything else. Just hands. She didn’t understand why dream-Caitlyn couldn’t just keep her sodding shoes on.

She checked her pulse – probably something over 120, 140. She exhaled slowly, feeling her pulse decelerate. This wasn’t even funny anymore. When it had started in medical school it had freaked her the hell out, but recently they had been coming back, worse than ever. It was only ever hands, and, come to think of it, left hands. Nightmares about falling into the left hands of corpses; she dreaded to think what the pop psychologists would make of that one. The worst thing was the smell: it took her right back to dissection, when she would have to mouth-breathe just to get through and afterwards she would shower obsessively. The longest it had stuck with her was when she had had a cold and hours later she could taste that chemical stench at the back of her throat. Crap, she was doing it again. She closed her eyes.

> “Out of the night that covers me,  
>  Black as the Pit from pole to pole,  
>  I thank whatever gods may be  
>  For my unconquerable soul.” 

She felt it sad that Invictus was her go-to secular prayer; it was just so stereotypically middle-class. Still, from the first time she had read it she had felt a certain overwhelming calmness. It gave her some strength and clarity when her thoughts were breaking loose. When her mind was racing and winding and crushing in, it helped her to escape her own fucking head.

> “In the fell clutch of circumstance  
>  I have not winced nor cried aloud.  
>  Under the bludgeonings of chance  
>  My head is bloody, but unbowed.”

It was alright. Everything was going to be alright. She could see why people got into religion; to have an entire arsenal of calming mantras would make life so much easier. If only she could believe them. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to believe, or that she thought it was stupid or wrong; it was that she simply couldn’t believe. Faith wasn’t in her. Only questions. To say _“You’re not meant to know.”_ or _“It’s all part of the plan.”_ was just so far removed from everything she believed. Scientist through and through, for all the good it had done her psyche.

She heard the alarm clock buzzing in the corner of her bedroom. Once again she had beaten it. Oh well, another day. 

#### Part 2 - Heat

It was a stifling heat that filled the train station as Caitlyn impatiently ignored the announcements relating to unattended baggage and passing high-speed trains. It was probably more that she wasn’t used to it than anything else. The whole summer had been hotter than on record, a stark contrast to the cold and extended winter, but today was definitely the hottest yet. She turned up the music in a vain attempt to distract herself. She drew a paper out of her bag and fanned the open neckline of her dress. She wondered how many buttons she could undo before it would become too revealing.

At least she wasn’t the only one suffering. Uncle tweed was bravely battling through, refusing to take off his trademark jacket, and Sheila’s wheels in the corner with the plastered-on makeup looked like her face was melting. Not to mention hot-flushes standing by the track, who was clearly in need of hormone suppliments. The only one who seemed to enjoy it was the tanorexic, who for once could justify the orange shade of his skin and his open shirt.

“ _The train is now approaching the platform…_ ” the station announcement droned as Caitlyn removed one ear-bud. “ _This train is very busy, due to late cancellations of the previous services._ ”

Just great. Shoved in an over-heated, over-stuffed tin can for the entirety of her journey. Knowing her luck they’d break down in the middle of a fucking field. Or worse, someone would faint, and then she’d have to spend the whole time holding their legs in their air while saying supportive things. Hell, at least then she’d get a bit of space.

With a clatter the train doors opened and she shoved her way inside. There was no room to sit, so instead she made for the nearest window, passing slowly through most of the train, trying to avoid all of the human obstacles. She mused that she might actually arrive at her stop before she found somewhere to stand. Her heart sunk as she glimpsed him through the carriage: John, the one-night-stand. “Shit.” She muttered under hear breath, and turned back to find a corner to hide in. It was no good, he definitely saw her.

He moved with a nimble grace past the other passengers, swiftly making his way towards her. Even uncle tweed didn’t prove much of an obstacle. Shit, would it be obvious if she just turned and kept going to the other end of the train? Maybe she could hitch a ride on the roof… She weighed her options, inspecting the emergency window, burying herself deeper into the corner.

“Are you trying to avoid me, Caitlyn?” whispered a calm voice over her shoulder. She turned to see him smirking rather than upset. He was laughing at her.

“Yeah, kind of.” She answered bluntly.

“Well then, may I suggest that you wear something less enticing?” he was walking her into the corner. “This dress does tend to draw the eye.”

She blushed, fastening a further button. “I’m really not trying to draw your eye, or anything else for that matter.”

He reached out with a calm purpose, unfastening it again. “Why not? Didn’t you enjoy it?” he smiled, already knowing the answer. The back of his hand casually brushed her breast as he took it back. “You needn’t cover yourself on my account. As you’ll remember I’m quite unopposed to seeing more of your body.”

“This is a public place!” she hissed.

“Once again, I am baffled as to why you think this would impede me in any way.” He lazily stroked her thigh. “Although, if you wanted to take this somewhere more private I suppose I could be persuaded…”

“I might scream.”

“I’d love to hear it.” He laughed.

Sheila’s wheels walked past and gave her a dirty look, while simultaneously ogling at John. She was so busy staring she nearly collided with a fast-closing automatic door.

“I mean it, there are people here.” Caitlyn tried to reason with him. _And it’s the day time, and I’m on the train to work. This isn’t supposed to happen here._

“When I said I would see you again, I meant it.” He said with a certain lust in his voice.

“Well, I didn’t.” she wasn’t sure what to do with herself, backed into that little corner. “What are you doing?” she gasped as he reached out once more.

“I think I’ve decided that with every lie you tell me, I’m going to undo a button.” He stroked upwards toward her chin. “And then I might just fuck you. Wherever you happen to be.” 

His eyes stared deep into her, undoing her thoughts with their deep hypnotic gaze. Just stop looking at him. Just turn away.

“Look John, this was kind of a one-time thing…” she addressed the wall.

“And now you feel nothing for me?” he asked. “Nothing at all?” his hand dropped to her waist as he pressed her to the wall, her back to him.

“Yes.”

“So, are you telling me that if I were to slide my fingers between your thighs that you wouldn’t be wet for me?” He whispered into her ear, pressing himself into her back. “I wouldn’t find desire dripping from your sweet cunt?” His words set her ablaze.

She felt strong fingers squeezing her inner thigh. _Surely he wouldn’t_. He made his way slowly upwards, getting ever closer to her sensitive skin. She felt a charge rising within her, heart racing. She didn’t dare react, aware of just how many people were within earshot. She felt her muscles clench as his fingers teased their way beneath her underwear.

“Oh Caitlyn, what a liar you are.” His coarse fingertip teased delicate flesh. She didn’t speak for fear she would cry out, or gasp, or moan. Without warning he slipped his finger inside. She felt as though she were twisting around him, coming undone. “What? Can’t you manage a retort?” He slowly swirled his finger around, her body pulsating. “Would you like me to fuck you here? In front of all these people?” he thrust his finger, grinding his body against her at the same time. She gasped with pleasure. “Well, that doesn’t sound like nothing to me.” He murmured, finally releasing her.

She tried to calm herself but she felt her cheeks flush as she turned to face him. His reply was a wolfish grin. Those glass-green eyes bore deep into her. “God, I fucking hate you.” She muttered.

“I know.” He replied, discreetly taking his finger to his lips and biting on it.

She shoved past him towards the opening door.

“See you later.” He smirked.

 _And that, Caitlyn, is why you should never fuck someone on your commute_.  
 

#### Part 3 – Start the Clock

“Good morning Caitlyn.” Stephano greeted her from the opposite side of the corridor. He gasped in surprise. “You’ve got fucked-face!”

“I have not got fucked-face.” She stubbornly replied. _I’ve not got fucked-face, I’ve got finger-fucked-face_.

“Yes, you have! You’ve got fucked-face!” he grinned. “Was it the same guy?”

“Shut up Stephano.”

He wouldn’t stop grinning. “Hey, I’m going to be a married man. I have to live vicariously through my single friends!”

“Did you come here to tell me something, or just to laugh at me?”

“Actually, I came to tell you you’re second-on paeds for Obstetrics theatres.” He handed her a bleep. “It was supposed to be me, but I’ve got a huge case at two, so I swapped.”

“Who’s covering the ward?”

“I think we’re both supposed to, in between everything else.” He beamed. “But I’m sure you’re getting used to juggling a few balls at once…”

“You’re loving this, aren’t you?”

“Of course.” He giggled.

The bleep went off in her hand, she was certain the number was for Obs theatres.

“See you later?” he asked “For the finale?”

“Yeah. If I’m still speaking to you.” She replied, phoning the internal number from the corridor phone. “Hello, you bleeped second-on paediatrics.”

“ _Hi. We’ve got a twenty-six- weeker with decelerations on her CTG. Premature rupture of membranes. We’re doing a category one section on her in theatre OG seven._ ” The voice stated with some irritation.

“Right, I’ll be there in two minutes.” She replied.

“Just so you know, the wedding’s going to be in August.” Stephano added. “Do you need a plus-one?”

“Shut up Stephano.” She cursed him, briskly making her way to theatres.

She hated pre-termers, especially those with PROM, there was nearly always something bad on the horizon. It seemed like most of the time she was just being called to confirm a death. Sure, there had been a few who survived, but the large majority ended in tears, with her having to tell the family their baby hadn’t quite made it, or that they would have to spend a long time in the NICU. Not a whole lot of miracles happened in the NICU. The worst case had been one not long ago, not unlike this, where chorioamnionitis had infected the kid, and it was already dead by the time it came out. The worst part was the fact they shared a scrub room with the theatre next door, where a woman had delivered a perfectly healthy baby. The poor mother had heard the screams and mistook them for her own child. The whole thing was heart-wrenching. The obs doctors had left it to her to explain the whole thing, to the weeping mother and the destroyed father.

She walked through the scrub room doors, putting on her over-shoes and hat. Thankfully she was needed urgently so she didn’t have to put scrubs on. “Hello. Dr Black. Paediatrics.” She announced to the room. She took her place beside the incubator, waiting for them to pull out the hopefully screaming bundle of joy.

“Ah. Dr Black. Good of you to join us.” One of the surgeons grumbled. “We’re just about to go through the rectus sheath.” A spurt of blood followed. “Suction!” he shouted to his assistant, a young medical student. “Now, student, what layers comprise the abdominal wall? And try not to cock it up this time.”

“Um…” the student faltered, sweat dripping from his brow.

 _Camper’s fascia, Scarpa’s fascia, external oblique, rectus abdominus, internal oblique, transversus abdominus, fascia transversalis, peritoneum_. She thought.

“…there’s the rectus…and…em…the obliques…” the student mumbled, looking a little pale. “I…um…”

“Suction!” the surgeon shouted, breaking into the amniotic sac. The fluid spurted a good foot into the air. “No! Get out of my way!” he barked at the student, extending the cut. 

“Nurse, blanket!”

Shit. This baby wasn’t crying.

“Come on boy, what are the fascial layers? We’ve already been through them.” The surgeon expressed in irritation as he clipped and cut the cord.

Come on baby, give me a cry.

The nurse bundled the baby and shoved it into the incubator. It was too unhealthy a shade of blue for her liking. It was so tiny…

“Suction.” She told the nurse. “And start the clock.”


	12. A Hangover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce and Tony suffer through their hangovers, and a chirpy student drives Caitlyn to despair.

### Chapter 12 – A Hangover

#### Part 1 – Baby Boy

Come on Caitlyn, you can do this. “Phone NICU, get them ready for a transfer.” The heart was still beating, but not up to the normal fluttering pace. The kid was about the size of her own palm, and it wasn’t moving. She suctioned the airway, pulling up a little of the fluid. Surfactant ready. Now time to bag and mask. With a gentle press of the bag she saw the kid’s chest rise. “Oxygen up, please.” Damn, the nurse was busy.

“Well, what do you think you’re playing at, boy? Go help the woman!” the surgeon shouted at his student. “Take your gloves off first…” he groaned in dismay.

“What’s your name?” she asked the student kindly but with little patience.

“…K…Kevin…”

“Right, Kevin, do you know how to switch on the oxygen?”

“Er…”

“Ok, you see what I’m doing at the moment? I want you to take over, right now.”

His shaking hands covered hers. She let him try for one bout, then, satisfied he wasn’t going to do more harm than good, she investigated the oxygen. “Um…am I doing this right?” he asked meekly.

“You’re doing fine, Kevin. Just make sure the chest keeps rising.” She reassured him from under the table. There it was: canister detached from the circuit. A fat lot of good it was doing there. She turned it up. “How’s the saturation doing, Kevin?”

“It’s, uh, going up?” he asked.

“To what?”

“Seventy Five… Seventy Eight.” He watched the screen.

“Keep pressing.” She reminded him, still fiddling with the tubes. Ah, a kink. She unfolded the offending section of tube. That should do it. “Alright?”

“It’s…it’s Eighty Four. Eighty Five…”

“Right, Kevin…” she patted him on the shoulder “Tell me what you see.”

“I…uh. Do you want to…?”

“You’re doing fine. Just tell me what you can see.” She repeated calmly.

“The…the saturations are rising to Eighty Seven…Heart rate one three six…airway seems clear…”

“What colour is he?”

“Pink. He’s pink!” the student grinned.

“Take the mask away. Look: he’s spontaneous, isn’t he?” she pointed out, grabbing the surfactant.

“Yes!” Kevin was going to be one of the emotional ones. “Eyes opening. Limbs moving…he’s crying!”

Thank fuck.

“Alright, do you want to come with me, Kevin? I need you to help me get this little boy to NICU. So if you could just unplug the incubator from the wall…” she didn’t mind spelling it out. This was dangerously close to going well. “Yes, that one. Now, open the door… Do you know what I just used there? This drug.”

“It’s…em…” the student responded as they walked to NICU.

“What do preterm infants lack, that would help them to breathe?” she asked calmly.

“Surfactant?”

“Well done.” She smiled. “Open the door, please.”

“Baby boy Wilson?” asked the intensivist, checking the baby’s ankle band. “We’ll take it from here, thanks.”

“Right Kevin. Let’s take you back to theatre.”

“That was…so awesome.” Kevin gushed. God, a crier. “He’s going to be ok, isn’t he?”

“I’m not sure, but it’s looking quite good.” She replied. “Have you done any paeds before?”

“No…I…I mean at the GP, but this was so…” he held the theatre door open for her, forgetting that he was the one supposed to be going in. “Dr…Dr Black. Do you think I could…maybe…I mean if it’s ok…could I shadow you some time?” he asked hopefully. “If…if you’re too busy, I understand, but this was really cool, and I’d really like to see more of you. Not you! What you do, and, well…thanks.”

“Stop blubbering, boy!” the surgeon shouted. “Scrub in and help me close up!”

“Yes, uh, sorry. I just…” Kevin mumbled. “Sorry.”

“Don’t bother with all that flirting. Those baby docs are all rug-munchers anyway.”

Caitlyn shrugged off the comment, while beginning to suspect that she had somehow gained a reputation. “Baby boy Wilson, nine hundred and twenty grams, breathing spontaneously.” She announced. “You’ve got my bleep – second-on paeds.”

“Would it…be alright…if I?” Kevin asked, peeking out of the scrub room with a mask partly obscuring his face.

“It would be absolutely fine. I’m on till eleven this evening, so if Mr Stone doesn’t mind it I would be fine with you tagging along as long as you like.” She replied. If she had a choice between Mr Stone and a three-story drop, she’d take her chances against gravity.

   


#### Part 2 – Raikkonen Moments

Tony Stark groaned to life inside his hotel suite. He wasn’t quite sure which country he had woken up in, but that was nothing new. Lately every hangover had seemed to top the one before it, and this was a real doozy. “Head…pain…” he mumbled. He seemed to have a roommate. It took a few seconds for him to register the shape as a recumbent Bruce Banner. “Bruce…Head pain.” He complained, throwing a pillow.

“Oh, god.” Banner rubbed his temples. “I think I broke my brain.”

Tony rolled onto his back, picking up the hotel phone. “Hi. Stark. I need painkillers. Strong ones. Bacon…eggs…pancakes… And knock quietly.” He hung up and sunk back under the covers. He had a strange suspicion that he had cried in the last twelve hours, though he wasn’t quite sure why. Things were distinctly fuzzy.

It didn’t take long for someone to arrive at the door and quietly roll in a trolley. “Will there be anything else, Mr Stark?” they asked.

He peaked his head out. “Indoor voices, please.” He waved. “What do you recommend for three continents’ worth of a hangover?”

“Self-restraint.” Banner moaned.

“I’ll bring you some of our health drinks.” The trolley woman smiled. “Unless there was anything else…?”

He was almost tempted to ask what was off the menu, but seeing his bro in the corner stopped him. “Juice. Great. Now quietly, like a tiny mouse.” He waved her away. He slowly slumped forward, crawling towards the silver tray. He grabbed and necked a couple of the pills, not bothering to read the label. Then he headed for the food. He inhaled the heady scent of fat. Pep wouldn’t have let him get away with this.

“I think I’m gonna be sick.” Banner gasped, running to where Tony supposed the bathroom must be.

“Sure you don’t want any?” he asked the retching scientist. “All the more for me.” By the time he was into his seventh or eighth mouthful the woman returned with his juice. “Thanks.” He grimaced, shooing her away.

The drink really seemed to hit the spot. So much so that he decided to switch on the TV. He flicked through the channels until he found something he could understand. It was an American news broadcast. Banner returned and sat back in his spot, with a pained look on his face.

“Man, I hate peace.” Tony mumbled through a swig of the weird green juice. 

“…you hate peace…?” Banner asked, sighing.

“It’s not like I love war, but yeah. Peace is boring. Peace just means the bad guys are getting good at hiding it.” He turned over the channel. “I mean, if some big-bad’s coming, I’d rather get some kinda advance warning.”

“Hmm.” Bruce mumbled in reply, pressing a cold can against his forehead.

“Listen. I don’t remember a lot of what happened last night. I’d say I’ve got about 65% clarity. But I just wanted to say I appreciate you coming on my little breakdown tour.” He didn’t want to make eye contact; he couldn’t face the emotion in the room. “You know, Tony Stark: the manic experience.”

“I…um…you’re welcome?” Banner groaned.

“So, just between you and me, what are you hoping for?” he found some kind of music channel which featured his own face in the corner. “Hey, it’s a little me! How about that.”

“Hoping for?”

“You know, robots, aliens, megalomaniac scientists, red-faced Nazis. What?”

“Oh. Uh…” he rubbed his eyes. “I was really hoping it was all going to go away. Maybe something Fury and Shield’s internal affairs could sort out…”

“You’re kidding me. That’s so boring!” Stark exclaimed. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“Tony, the fighting and the suits are all fine for you, but when I go green I don’t know who I might hurt. I’d rather keep the big guy in.”

“You’re really on this big redemption kick, aren’t you?” Tony asked, sitting up and taking a good look at Banner. “God, if someone asked me to hang up my suits for good I think I’d probably shoot myself first.”

“Well, at least you’d have that option.”

“Hey, man. Don’t go all Debbie-downer on me. Sure you don’t want some bacon?”

Banner turned a slightly unsettling shade of green and ran for the bathroom again.

“You knocked up, Bruce?” Tony laughed, but then began to frown as he heard his phone ring. “Tony Stark, hungover billionaire.”

“ _Stark, what in the hell are you up to?!_ ” Fury yelled.

“You’ll really have to be a teeny-tiny bit more specific…”

“ _I’m being hacked by you! Again! I thought we agreed this wasn’t going to be a problem anymore._ ”

“Wha…? Hold please.” Tony stated as he phoned through to Jarvis. “Jarvis, are we hacking Shield?”

“ _Not that I am aware of, sir. Would you like me to?_ ”

“Nah, that’s alright. Maybe some other time.” He returned to Fury.

“ _Fucking Stark and his motherfucking…_ ”

Tony interrupted the rant “Hi there. Not me. Sorry.”

“ _What do you mean it’s not you?_ ”

“Well, I mean it’s not me; not my limbs, not my torso, not connected to my brain. If it doesn’t look like a Stark, doesn’t talk like a Stark and doesn’t act like a Stark, it’s not a Stark. Mmkay?”

“ _Our systems say it’s coming from you._ ”

“Yeah. And your systems are never wrong.” He paused. “Hold please.” He switched back to Jarvis. “Jarvis, their systems say it’s us. Any reason why that might be?”

“ _It could either be coming from your network..._ ”

“No. Next.” Tony interrupted.

“ _Or, it could be internal, within Shield’s own facilities._ ”

“Shit.” He couldn’t risk Fury finding out about the mole. Then they’d never lead him to who was behind it. “Can you stop it?”

“ _Of course, sir. Interrupting their attack._ ”

“Great.” He switched back to a cursing Fury. “Hi, yeah, sorry about that. It was me, or rather it was Jarvis. I’ve been meaning to fix that. A few bugs in the system…”

“ _Tony, I am this close to breaking you into a hundred motherfucking pieces!_ ” Fury yelled.

“Hey, you can’t blame Jarvis…”

“ _I don’t blame Jarvis, I blame you!_ ”

“Well, that’s super. Anything else I can help you with?”

“ _Put Dr Banner on the phone._ ”

“That’s harsh. I thought I was everybody’s favourite lovable rogue scientist.”

“ _Just get me Dr Banner!_ ”

“Alright, Jeez.” He knocked on the bathroom door. “Brucey boy, phone for you.” The reply was a harsh retching sound. “Yeah, he’ll have to get back to you. He’s experiencing what we like to call a Raikkonen moment.”

“ _You tell him Nick Fury wants to speak to him._ ”

“I don’t think that’s going to make a whole lot of difference to the situation, but I’ll let you know as soon as he starts using his gut in the right direction, ‘kay? Thanks for calling.” Tony hung up. “How you doing in there, buddy?”

“I…hate you…” Banner whined.

“Alright. Great. I’ll just be over here watching a little me dance to Korean pop.” He felt a little guilty about the whole thing, but not enough for it to stop being funny. “Robots! I want it to be robots. Jeez, I’d love to fight some robots right about now.”

“Go…away…”

“Alright buddy. I’m out here if you need me.”

   


#### Part 3 – The Healer

“Hi! I’m Kevin, I’m a medical student shadowing Doctor Black. Do you think it would be ok if I could ask you a bit about why you’re in hospital?” Kevin chirped.

The young boy stared quizzically at the student. He pointed. “I put a pencil up my nose.” He waited for a response. “And it’s still there…”

Dr Black had to stop herself laughing at the high-pitched whistling noise emanating from the occluded nostril as the boy exhaled.

“Really? And when did that happen?” Kevin smiled.

“…it’s still happening…?” the boy raised an eyebrow and the pencil dipped slightly.

“I mean, when did you put it up your nose?”

“Hmm. When Peppa Pig was on.”

“But, why did you put it up your nose?”

The boy shrugged in reply. “Wanted to see if it would go in.”

“He’s really not like this most of the time.” The frantic mother chirped in. “He’s a very sensible boy.”

Her son turned and smiled, the pencil lagging somewhat as he span.

Just hold it together, Caitlyn. You can’t laugh in front of them.

“Do you think it will cause any brain damage?” The mother asked anxiously.

Oh god. Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh. Just think about dying puppies. “I don’t think so.” Caitlyn smiled. “Can I just have a quick look up the other side of your nose? Mum, can you give him a cuddle?” she took a quick look with the scope. “Right. Now, I’m going to press this side in, and I want you to blow your nose.”

“Like when you blow out a bug.” The boy nodded knowingly.

“Exactly. Ok, ready? One, two, three.” She pulled on the pencil as he blew and it shot out with a great glob of mucus. “Well done! That’s really good.” She had a quick look to check if he’d damaged anything. “All clear. You can go home now. Do you want to keep the pencil?”

“Yeah!” he grinned. “I’m going to show Mark at school!” he grabbed the pencil and pulled his mother by the arm. “Come on mum. It’s tea-time.”

“Thank you.” The woman smiled, being dragged by a two-foot child.

“Alright, bye now.” Caitlyn waved.

“Dr Black, would you be worried about brain damage?” Kevin asked anxiously.

Don’t laugh at the poor kid. “Not when the pencil goes in blunt end first.” She smiled. “Why don’t you go talk to the next one on your own, I’ve got a phone call to make. Come get me when you’re done.”

“Um…ok…thanks!” he beamed, virtually skipping off down the corridor.

“Hi, switchboard? Can you put me through to Mr Stephano? Paediatric Surgeon.” She asked the operator, waiting impatiently.

“ _Hello! This is Stephano!_ ” his voice was muffled, probably wearing a surgical mask. “ _How can I help you?_ ”

“Hi, it’s Caitlyn. Are you closing?”

“ _Yes I am. Doing a brilliant job of it too. How are things?_ ”

“I’m doing intake at the moment, so no-one’s up covering the ward. Just thought you might want to know.” She sighed. “You know: the wonderful NHS at its finest.”

“ _I hope you’re getting paid for doing three jobs at once! By the way, I’ve been telling everyone there’s a new man in your life._ ”

“You haven’t!”

“ _Nah. Only Nina_.”

“Nina’s the biggest gossip in the whole hospital!”

“ _I’m kidding._ ” He laughed. “ _It’s not the student, is it? He’s a bit young for you._ ”

“What…? I literally met this kid today. How…?”

“ _I have eyes everywhere, Caitlyn._ ” Stephano menaced with a giggle. “ _Ok. Ciao. See you later!_ ”

She hung up the phone, shaking her head. You couldn’t get away with anything with Stephano on the case. He was like a magnet for gossips. It was probably because there wasn’t a mean bone in his body. You knew anything he said was done with the best of intentions. That just made it all the more annoying when the gossip was about her; it meant that in some way he approved of it. That was really sad.

One of the A+E nurses wandered past, chatting with a colleague. “So I finally went to see this crystal healer, and he said there was like this extra organ, in between the stomach and the gallbladder, and it was filled with all my negative energy…”

“That is so weird.” Another commented.

“That’s the duodenum.” Caitlyn muttered. _That guy was literally talking shit_. She sighed, looking at the clock: 6:20. At least it was more than half-way through.


	13. Decisions Made

### Chapter 13

#### Part 1 – At the fall of the fourth god

Loki felt a tug deep within his bones, cold and clear. He smiled, slipping between the fabric of the world. His scholar was summoning him.

Loki had searched for some time to find one like him: not just intelligent, but obsessional, driven, and observably zealous. He could almost hear the man’s mind splinter as he had shown his true form. All it had taken were a few simple illusions and the scholar worshipped at his feet, and when he had given him a great task, he wept for joy. The great god Loki had chosen him; it was by far the greatest honour. Loki tried to pretend it was only his usefulness that he enjoyed, but there was definitely something from the feverish devotion that had its place deep within. This was how things should be, and would, given time.

The room was cold and dim, save for a single bulb that lit the desk. Frantic notes in sprawled hand littered the surroundings. It was not unlike some sort of nest, not least because the papers encroached upon the scholar’s bed, a simple thing without sheets. A few mere words had turned him to such beautiful dedication. Loki smiled to himself; he would be the first of many.

The scholar bowed low when he entered, glasses nearly tipping off his face. “M…master Loki. I didn’t want to disturb you, b…but I found something. I thought…I thought you should know…”

“What is it, my child?”

Unworthy eyes did not dare to seek his. “Here:” the scholar opened the book to a painting as intricate as tapestry. In the centre was Mjolnir, held by someone most definitely not Thor, and all around were what Loki supposed to be bloodied corpses. “At first I didn’t see it, because it was so well hidden, but these bodies are in fact lain out in runic script.” The scholar traced the lined of some of the bodies, and as sure as he had said it, there they were. What a clever little scholar he had been.

“It translates to… _At the Fall of the Fourth God_.”

“The fourth god?” Loki asked, studying the image. “Who is the fourth god?” Other than that the wielder was not Thor, he could tell virtually nothing from the picture. Yes, it might have been he, but it was not a strong likeness to himself or any of the ways he had been portrayed in the past. The character was facing away from him, into the battle beyond the page. From the design of the image the man might have been tall or short, stocky or thin, old or young. Dark hair; that was all he had for evidence. And yet, it might be he, wielding Mjolnir. Standing above all, in his rightful place. It was almost more than he could hope for.

“I…I thought you might know, my lord.” The scholar turned pale. “I…”

“Sssh. You have done very well, my child.” Loki hushed him. “I wish to know more about this fourth god. Tell me what you require and you shall have it.”

“The…the image here…” the scholar stumbled. “I believe it is one in a series, my lord. If I…if I might have access to others, I might be able to tell you more.”

“Then the rest shall be brought to you.” Loki smiled. “Give me your arm.”

The scholar complied, presenting his bandaged arm. Loki unwrapped it gently, then pressed slender fingertips along the scored lines. A blue energy seeped deep into the gashes, pulling them taught. The lines changed from an unhealthy red spun with yellow; to paler, pinker, thinner scars. He stopped short of healing them completely, preferring to leave the scars of his name enduring.

“You have nothing to fear, my clever scholar. Do me service and I shall love thee dearly.”

“Y…yes, my lord.” The scholar smiled, on the verge of weeping.

   


#### Part 2 - Decisions Made

Thor Odinson bowed low as he approached his father’s throne within the great cavernous halls of the Asgardian palace. He lay Mjolnir before him. The clang of metal on stone echoed through the vaults of the grand empty hall. The throne arched above both of them, a groaning golden monument that dwarfed the god sitting in it. The air seemed too thin for such an occasion. Thor felt himself sink as he uttered the words he knew they both feared to be spoken. “Father. Loki has escaped.”

Odin might have flown into a rage, but instead seemed to wince as though wounded. His hand subconsciously drifted to his breast. “When?” he asked, in brittle speech.

“As we travelled towards the cells; he managed to slip his chains, and he wounded Hogun and then he…disappeared.” Thor could not explain it; Loki had vanished before his very eyes, and he was powerless to stop him. This was yet another of Loki’s unnatural talents, that at first had been a wonder, but now they seemed more ominous, darker.

“Hogun is wounded?”

“Yes, he is in the healing room. He will recover.” The wounds had not been deep, merely to sting and allow Loki his escape. Thor liked to hope that there had been no malice behind it; that Loki had acted as a cornered animal, and scratched and clawed to find his way to freedom. Not to hurt, not to punish, but to be free.

“Good.” Odin sighed.

“Father…” Thor began, but he didn’t know the right words to say.

“He has returned to Midgard, in all certainty.”

“…yes.”

“Then you must find him.” Odin commanded. “You must bring him back to face his punishment, before the people of Midgard are made to suffer for our failures.”

“Our failures?” Thor asked.

“Loki should not be a plague upon the mortals. Bring him home, my son.” Odin stood, hand placed upon Thor’s shoulder, indicating for him to stand. “Bring him home.” He walked from the throne room, leaving Thor behind.

“Father?”

“I must speak with Heimdall. Make yourself ready to return to Earth.” He called behind him.

 

Odin rode through the Asgard night, towards the remains of the bifrost. His horse’s hooves ground splinters of the sparking bridge as it galloped. He could see Heimdall in the distance, awaiting him as always; standing tall and still, and as constant as ever, a golden beacon in the night.

“My lord.” Heimdall greeted him coolly.

“Heimdall, you already know of Loki’s escape.” He stated.

“Yes, my lord.” His deep voice betrayed nothing.

“And, know you the circumstances of his escape?” Odin asked with a tremor in his person.

Heimdall paused, understanding fully the implications of the question. “Yes, my lord.”

“Heimdall, I need not tell you…”

“No. You need not.” He interrupted in a voice still calm and composed. “My lord.”

It passed unspoken between them; a deep understanding. The gold eyes of Heimdall fixed on the grey of Odin. They swore his allegiance in more than words.

“He is on Midgard?” Odin asked.

“I cannot see him, but that seems the most likely. The warriors of Earth pursue such things, and will surely find him if he is to be found.” Heimdall seemed to know the question before it was uttered. “There is no great evil, as yet, done to the peoples of Midgard. If he refrained from such, he might slip away completely.” The statement hung in the air, thick and heavy, drawing out all breath.

“He might.” Odin echoed.

“My lord, your duty is to serve Asgard. Mine is only to serve you, whatever those orders might be.”

Odin nodded, taking his leave. How could he have done such a thing? Now it would be the people of Midgard who would pay the price. In a fit of sentimentality he had convinced himself that his actions were justified, but he knew he would come to regret his decision. The bitterly foolish decision; to let Loki flee.

   


#### Part 3 - Vascular

It is a truth well accepted, that within at most five minutes’ distance from every hospital is a pub. This is partly due to the needs of the hospital staff, in whom alcoholism is, if not a necessity, certainly prevalent. Caitlyn walked into just such a pub at a little after 11:30 with every intention of drinking herself into a stupor.

“Stephano! Hi!” she greeted him warmly, hugging him. “Sorry, I got caught up in A+E.”

“It’s fine, do you want a drink?” he smiled. “Then you can tell me all about the mystery man…”

Stephano pushed his way through the throng of inebriated doctors, dragging Caitlyn behind him. “I’m not talking about it!” she shouted over the crowd.

“Come on!” he beamed. “I promised David I’d get all the gossip! I can’t let him down.”

She suddenly stopped in her tracks. “Shit!”

“What?”

“Sorry, I’ve got to make one phone call.” She apologised. “I’m sorry, I’ll be right back. It was this kid…”

“Don’t worry. I’ll get the drinks.”

“Thanks.” She said, brushing back through the crowd and out of the door, barely recognising familiar faces that she passed. She speed-dialled the hospital on her phone. As she waited to be put through to the building she could currently see across the road she cursed herself for not picking it up earlier. “Hello. Could you put me through to the paeds doctor on nights?”

“ _Just a minute…_ ” the answering voice mumbled.

“ _Hello?_ ” a man answered. “ _Nights on call._ ”

“Hello, this is Doctor Black. I just left the ward, and…one of the patients, in bed eighteen…neuro…query meningitis…encephalitis…” she stumbled.

“ _Yes? Bed eighteen_?”

“He…could you arrange a HIV serology, CD4 count?”

“ _Does he have HIV_?” the man asked in shock. “ _It doesn’t say anywhere…_ ”

“No, well, I’m not sure. But I just…” _I just realised I made a mistake, I could have missed it…_ “He has a history of unusual infections… and I think the convulsions might be HIV encephalitis. It’s a long shot, but could you check, please?” she heard her voice cracking.

“ _Of course, I’ll add it to the list. Thanks._ ” He hung up.

“Right.” She spoke to herself. “It’s alright… you fixed it…” she rationalised as she returned to the bar. She hadn’t done anything wrong, in fact she had made the diagnosis; but it had taken too long. What if she hadn’t? What then? How long would it have been missed? Until the autopsy? That wasn’t good enough. She wasn’t being good enough. She needed to be better…Her mind was in a cycle, she could feel it again. She was getting stuck on this. It was bad. This was like before.

“You alright?” Stephano asked. “Caitlyn, are you alright?”

She shook herself. “Yeah. It’s just, em…I…” she took the shot he offered her, and swallowed it in one. “I nearly missed it…” She took a steadying breath, and explained the case to him, in every small detail that she herself had overlooked before.

“That’s brilliant!” he exclaimed. “I wouldn’t have caught that. I mean…hey, don’t worry about that. You’re absolutely right…”

“But I should have got it sooner.”

“Don’t even worry about it.” He smiled. “Caitlyn. Hey. Don’t worry about it.” He gave her a supportive hug. “You know, I used to hate you on ward rounds. Even though I was a year above you, you always jumped in and got the diagnosis first. I thought you must spend every night locked up with your textbooks.”

“Not every night.” She smiled. “When did you decide not to hate me?”

“When you gave that SPR a bollocking for being rude to your patient.” Stephano laughed. “I knew your heart was in the right place.” His English slang was getting better; it must have been David’s influence.

“Between ribs two to six?”

“Middle mediastinum!” he replied. “Another shot?” he offered the amber liqueur.

“Why not?” she grinned.

“By the way, I’d steer clear of Mr Stone, if I were you…”

“Why?”

“Rumour is; he’s looking for his third wife.” Stephano whispered conspiratorially.

“Eugh!” she shuddered. “Not that I’m worried. He called me a rug-muncher anyway.”

“That’s nothing. You know what I get called by most of those guys?” he asked, indignant “Cock jockey. The worst part is I’m not even short!” he growled slightly, picking up yet another pair of shots. “There’s someone staring at you, by the way.”

“…who?” It couldn’t be…how could he know she was here?

“Some guy. I think it’s one of the vasculars.” Stephano drank.

“Oh.” She said, meaning to sound relieved, but for some reason it seemed more disappointed. That wasn’t good.

“It’s not…?”

“No.” she cut in. She scanned the crowd. “Oh god.” She muttered. “I didn’t know he was here.”

“Who?” Stephano grinned. “Mr…Mr, oh, what’s his face…”

“I don’t know. I just know his first name is Steven.” She made eye contact and immediately looked away.

“I don’t think he’s going away…”

“It’s fine. I can just ignore him.”

“Oi!” Steven the surgeon shouted over the din. “Oi! Caitlyn!” he looked directly at her. “I want to talk to you!” His expensive suit was gaping at the opened neck, sleeves rolled up.

“The ignoring thing isn’t going well.” Stephano noted.

She groaned. “Fine. I’ll go talk to him, but if I kick him in the nuts you’d better help me out with the police.” She shoved her way between sweaty bodies over to the shouting man. “What is it?” she asked with all the politeness she could muster.

“You’re a fucking bitch!” He spat.

“Right, well, if that’s all, I’m going to leave now.” She gritted her teeth.

“No! I fucking trusted you, and you told them I was…” he dropped his voice to a whisper. “That I was _high_ during surgery.”

“Well you were.” She replied coolly.

“God, that was once! You have no fucking idea what that could do to me!”

“I told Occupational Health, alright? Not the fucking GMC.”

He clenched his fist. “I told you that in confidence. And then you just left and you grassed me up. Fucking frigid bitch!” his fist shook a little.

“Hello again, Caitlyn.” A familiar voice cooed over her shoulder, and a slender hand slipped around her waist. “I told you I’d see you later.”

   


#### Part 4 – Mischief

Loki smirked. A more perfect opportunity he couldn’t have created himself.

“You’re…tall.” The man strove for an insult.

“That’s only a matter of perspective.” He smiled through thin lips. “Are you a surgeon?”

“Yes I am. Senior Reg Vascular Surgeon under Mr Awaya.”

“Is that good? You must forgive me, you seem rather ordinary to me.” He had to hold back a little of the laughter he felt brimming.

“Look, who the fuck do you think you are?” he yelled. “Who are you, then? Huh? What do you do?”

“Evidently, what you cannot.” Loki stated with a cunning smile.

“Right.” Caitlyn interrupted “You boys can measure each other’s dicks on your own time. I have better things to do, and, quite frankly, I’d rather be a lesbian.” She patted each of them on the back and made her way through the crowd.

“Hey!” the surgeon shouted. He turned to Loki. “Alright, look mate, I’m doing you a favour. Stay away from her; she’s an evil bitch.”

“Really?” Loki asked, dubious. “Well, I suppose that’s perfect…” he pressed the gold pen against the man’s chest. “…because I’m an _evil bastard_.” He watched the man’s eyes flash blue. “Go, and consider your attitude. I may not be so lenient next time.”

He wondered whether he should simply approach her once more, but here in such a public place, should anything go wrong, there were too many. With those cameras and mobile phones, the image of the god, the war criminal Loki, would not be kept hidden for long. No. He would wait until she was alone…  
He amused himself by creating a little mischief within the crowd; causing a fight between two high-ranking doctors, watching them come to blows as the crowd looked on; brainwashing some pretty young thing into thinking she was in love with a man who only spurned her advances, yet something in his stance suggested he considered her pleas.

It wasn’t too long before she took her leave, walking alone through the dark towards the train station. He followed not too far behind, letting her become slowly aware of his presence.

Eventually she turned to confront him. “Seriously? Are you following me?”

“Yes.” He smirked. “Or, would you rather I lie? I could tell you this was fate, and I was drawn here by some divine presence. Would that make you happier?” he calmly cut through the distance between them.

“Look. John. This isn’t going to happen. Leave. Me. Alone.” She enunciated every word.

“I see. Perhaps you want a second chance to prove how little I mean?” he stepped into her path. “Because you seemed so resolute before…”

“I will punch you, in the face.”

He laughed. “Tell me; is it because I made you feel weak, or simply because I’m the best fuck you ever had?”

“Wow. Do you need some kind of air-space clearance for an ego like that?”

“You didn’t answer me.” He menaced, closing in.

She pushed him back. “Don’t…”

“Stop me, then.” He smiled, grasping her wrists. He watched her breathing quicken and shallow, her face flush, her lips softly parted. He whispered into her ear the words he had chosen so perfectly. “In the dark we tell truths we cannot bear to utter in the harsh light of day.” He grazed his teeth across the skin of her neck and heard her delicate moan. This was almost too easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, this chapter had to be pulled kicking and screaming out of the proverbial womb. I'm just having too much fun writing scenes well into the future!  
> For anyone out there following the series so far, thanks for reading!


	14. The Truths of the Night

### Chapter 14 – The Truths of the Night

#### Part 1 - Follow

The street lights cast long shadows into the night, making Loki appear even taller than he was. He felt like a grand ghost or demon, snatching away such a sweet, pretty young thing. He would be dark and selfish and consume all that was light; twist the goodness into fearful shapes. To make her see…

“There’s something so wrong with you.” She replied as he held her fast.

“But you like it.” Loki smiled.

She didn’t deny it. He could feel her heart race. “There must be something wrong with me too.”

He wouldn’t advance. He would wait for her, but keep her still. “Why do you keep running from me?” he asked in a voice of earnest calm.

She tried to look away, but he waited. He would not yield. “I’m not going to fix you, you know.” She uttered, avoidant. “I’m not going to save you from yourself, or make the whole world shiny and new, or be kind to you because no-one else is. In case you didn’t realise, I can be cold and spiteful and distant, and I’d rather you left than expect me to be any different.”

“I don’t want to be fixed…” He replied, leaving expectant silence until she would finally meet his gaze. When she did turn her head, she did so with such timidity. “…I just want the chance…” he whispered “…to fuck you up.”

“You’d have a hell of a job on your hands.”

“I assure you, I am quite skilled in the matter.” He smiled. “I was thinking of starting tonight.”

“So the other night, and this morning on the train; that wasn’t it?” Her eyes seemed to darken, eyebrow raised, and she her lips parted ever so slightly.

He might have laughed had he not been so fixed in the matter at hand. “That was nothing! If I had my way, you would have been bent over a table, crying out for all the world to hear.”

“You’re a kinky fucker, aren’t you?”

He grinned. “You have no idea.”

He suddenly felt off-balance as she pulled his arms around her waist, and pressed herself against him. Her lips met his; a kiss with a bite. Her teeth, her breasts, her hips…she slid his hands over her backside. He groaned low, unable to contain the sensation rising through him.

She pulled away, escaping from his grip. “Now who feels weak?” she asked sweetly.

He bit his still stinging lip, keeping that delicious sensation alive. “You are playing a very dangerous game with me.” He warned.

“Oh, I know.” She replied, walking ahead of him, towards the train station. “And I’m winning.” She hummed some unfamiliar melody as she strode. It was as though he could hear nothing else, the sound spanning the synapses in his mind. His thoughts coalesced as one, inescapably drawn: ‘ _follow_ ’. Only ‘ _follow_ ’.  
   


#### Part 2 – Hall of Relics

Odin pressed lightly on the ornate stone carving within the wall, and before him opened a hidden passageway. He ascended the stairs with a gradual progress. His bones held no infirmity since the Odinsleep, but something nonetheless slowed him. He entered the hall of prized trophies… ‘ _stolen relics_ ’ as Loki had so called them, and allowed his gaze to search over his possessions. The light of licking flame that reflected through the hall glinted over such treasures. The Casket of Ancient Winters; the Tesseract; various weapons of the elders of Jotunheim; texts written in the hand of Rossthof; forged tools of Svartalfheim; all of these might bring power necessary to send Thor to Midgard, but in the wrong hands they would be such dangerous things. When had Loki’s hands turned to so traitorous a purpose? Perhaps things might have been different, if only he had been told sooner; if only Loki had known he was loved more deeply… _enough. That way madness lay_.

He opened a dark and heavy chest, searching for the tool fit for the task: there it lay, glinting edges projecting between heavy velvet cloth. Odin lifted the golden gauntlet that sang with cold, dark magic. This would do. He had been told the power of such an item: to allow travel between the realms through weaknesses in Yggdrasil. It was dangerous to allow such tears to widen, but perhaps this was the only item which would be of no use to Loki; it was nothing he could not do himself. Nothing he had not already done, to bring the frost giants into Asgard. No magics he had not already harnessed to bring the Chitauri to Earth.

“Loki. My son. What have you done?” Odin muttered desolately to himself. “What mischief have you brought upon yourself?”

   


#### Part 3 – The Prince

“Are you going to sit?” Caitlyn asked, smirking.

Loki frowned, confused. It was though he had just awoken from too long a slumber. “I might.” He replied. It was not that he did not recall the last few minutes, more that the memories seemed not to be his own. He had walked, as though in sleep, silently following.

“Please. Sit down.” She smiled. “It looked like you were a million miles away.”

He sat opposite her, diagonally across the other side of the table. “I…”

“Don’t worry about it.” She interrupted. “You obviously had other things on your mind.” She was laughing, actually _laughing_ at him. “I’m sorry…” she grinned “…it’s just nice to see behind the curtain every once in a while.”

“Behind the curtain?” he asked, incredulous. “Do you assume this is how I act, when unobserved?”

“Hey, prove me wrong, googly-eyes.”

Loki protested “I was clearly under some kind of hypnosis.”

“Clearly.” She smirked. “You must be very suggestible…all that from one little kiss…”  
“Oh, believe me, I shall endeavour to get past it…” He shifted across the seats, so his legs touched hers. “…with further exposure…” His hands wrapped around her knees, pulled them apart and towards him, so she fell back, splayed across his lap. He pinned her thighs in place using his own below and the table above. “…to such a suggestive medium.” 

She didn’t mock him now.

“Do you find me coy and hesitant at this moment?” He softy stroked the inside of her thighs, with only the lightest of touches, finding beautiful warmth as he progressed. “Do not test me Caitlyn. I will not shy away from risk.” He pressed his thumb firmly into the flesh at the apex of her thighs, watching her wince. “ _It is better to be adventurous than cautious, because fortune is a woman, and if you wish to keep her under it is necessary to beat and ill-use her_ ” he spoke low and soft, releasing her at his leisure. It amused him to see her straighten her dress, trying to brush away the last few moments.

“That was from ‘The Prince’, wasn’t it?” she asked, a blush still caressing her cheeks.

“ _Niccolò Machiavelli, Il Principe_.” He smiled. She was trying to distract him. He supposed he might let it slide, this time. “Fascinating book, don’t you think? Of course, it’s much better in the original _lingua toscana_.” He ran a slender finger along his chin.

“I don’t know about that, but yes, I suppose it’s interesting. The only thing I really thought about it was that I’d never want to be prince.”

“Really? Please, explain.”

“It just seems like you need to be the worst of yourself to take a world so cold I don’t think I’d want to live in it. I’d rather do something good.”

“Deontology over consequentialism? That is the recourse of simple-minded fools.” He snorted. “Those afraid of accepting what comes from their own plans.” He chided her. He didn’t think her so foolish.

“Or those brave enough to stand for what they know is right…”

“Those so weak that they cling to ancient dictates of morality for guidance.” He interrupted. “Not brave enough to shoulder the burden of hate in order to do what must be done!” he heard the violence in his words as they left his lips, perhaps too harshly. He allowed his tongue to cool.

“People don’t really argue with you, do they?” she smiled.

“Not if they understand the repercussions of such actions.” Her tone had changed so suddenly. He had thought she might fight back, shout and curse, but instead, more of that incessant laughter.

“Sorry…” she said again. She would be made sorry. “It’s just, you’re really intense for a conductor; maybe you should have gone into politics, or been a General.” There were tears of laughter brimming on her eyelids. “I half expect you to go: ‘ _I had one of the cellists executed today. Firing squad. He was very pitchy. It was the kindest thing._ ’” She mimed firing a weapon.

He let a small smile grace his expression. She had no idea how close she had come. It was rather amusing; still, he could not let such behaviour continue unchecked. “Caitlyn. Do not laugh at me. If you do so once more, there shall be _consequences_.”

“Really, and what might they be?” she smiled, curiosity getting the better of her.

“Ways of teaching humility…” he replied, darkening “…things to make you beg.”

“I don’t beg, John.” She smirked.

He raised an eyebrow. “Not yet.”  
   


#### Part 4 – Only Ask

Loki entered the house he wasn’t supposed to have seen. He ascended stairs to the bedroom he wasn’t supposed to have been in, and to the bed in which she didn’t know he had already lain.

Her hair was splayed wildly as she lay on her back. He liked her this way. “This is absolutely the last time.” She muttered as he undid the buttons on her dress, from the top down.

“Of course.” He smiled, exposing soft and tender skin that now carried a flush of red. Her underwear beneath; a sheer brown lace allowed the outline of firm nipples, straining the fabric as he teased them. They were such a beautiful shade of rose, perfectly mirroring her lips. He felt his way down her body, undoing the last button and spreading open her dress. He knelt above her and rid himself of his midgardian wear. He could tell from her face that she liked what she saw. “Now, ask nicely.”

She laughed. “I’m not doing that.”

He flipped her onto her stomach, pulling off the dress and stripping her of her underwear. He pinned her down with his body, skin on skin. “You should never laugh at me. You do not know what I can do.” He murmured into her ear. His hardened cock pressed against her wet opening. “I will have you beg.” To take her now would be so imperfect. He could not let her win. He would not be beaten by a mortal woman.

“Arrogant, backward, misogynistic…” she muttered.

He turned her on her side, as she had been while sleeping, and lay next to her, trapping her arms and legs with his own. One hand held her arms outstretched, while the other softly caressed her skin, down between her legs. He moved slowly, drawing out her sensation. “Beg me for it.” He demanded. He held her roughly, grabbing her breast, and squeezing her exposed nipple.

“No.” she sighed, writhing. She tried to move her hands, to free herself. He wouldn’t allow that.

He pulled her taught. Once more he ran his fingers slowly down her body, between her legs, teasing expertly that which he forbade her to touch. She was so wet for him, and yet she still refused. “Beg, Caitlyn.” He said softly. “You have no choice.”

“I…ah!” she moaned as he pressed on her clit.

“Shh. There’s only one way this stops…” he felt her warm backside rub against him as she struggled. Each movement teased him excruciatingly. He grew so hard for her he feared he would give in before she did. Then she would be taught nothing. “Just ask for what you want.” He repeated his assaults, each time waiting for her excitement almost to peak, and then deny her. She sounded so beautiful when she was refused: wanting, gasping, mewling.

She finally spoke, in a voice so precious to him. “Please.”

“Yes?”

“Please. Fuck me.”

He laughed, stretching her writhing arms. “I think you can do better.”

“Oh, you sadistic son of a bitch.” She cursed him. “Fine! I admit it. It was the best fucking sex I’ve ever fucking had. Please let me have it my way!”

He felt the glorious victory rush through him. “All you needed do was ask.” He released her, allowing her to sit astride him. She was so ready, all it took were a few thrusts to bring her to climax; a few more and he was spent.

She lay down beside him, panting. Beads of sweat glistened on her chest. “I hate you so much.”

He pulled her weakened body across his, and kissed her on the lips. “I know.” He grinned.


	15. Brothers and Kings

### Chapter 15 – Brothers and Kings

#### Part 1 – Obsession 

Loki watched her slow breaths, chest gently sighing upon his. Her arm extended across, and her legs intertwined with his own, in an embrace. Oh, what a thing it would be to take this moment and bottle it; to sip sweet memories. She wasn’t anything; nothing worthy or great; nothing so powerful or so magnificent to be held in such esteem. And yet…a king might have a consort.

She stirred slightly, grasping him more tightly, and sighing once again. A smile played across her sleeping lips, so at peace and content. If he could see that each night… he tenderly whispered “Tell me the price to rule you.” He watched as she lay still and silent. “I would gladly pay it a thousand times over.” Oh, to have such a precious thing…

But he held no delusions about what he was, and the hatred she would feel when she came to learn the truth. For the first time, he wished that things had been different; that they had met in some other time and circumstance. Not even as in fantasy, simply with a few truths exchanged for those of happier times. If he had been Loki: Prince of Asgard, and not Loki the Reviled, Loki the Base, Loki the Murderer; to be not the son of Laufey, but of Odin.

It seemed that by the hour there were more enemies at the gates, baying for his blood. He didn’t begrudge them it; rather, he had forced it upon them. Through lies, and deceits, and the most bitter truths he had spun such a great web, and he would be damned if they should try to make him the prey snared within it. He was Loki the Cunning and Deceitful. If they wanted him they would have to take him in pieces. When Odin sought the weak and cowardly Loki, he would find him a King; a right divined by nature if not by birth! This was Midgard: here any man might become a ruler of men. Here any God might become a ruler of the Gods.

How had he let his thoughts stray from this goal? He had been trapped in such base sentimentality, all because of her; a mortal woman, a whore to be used as he saw fit! She would not sway him in such ways. She would not keep him from his true purpose. It mattered not what she thought of him, she was his property, and could be replaced if he so desired it!

_Except_ …he steadied himself…except that she couldn’t. She wasn’t replaceable. She had resisted his control, and shown such unnatural ability to bring forth emotion with simple song. He had never found one as such before, and was unlikely to encounter another at any time soon. Why dispose of that which he might have use for later…and indeed what he had found use for now?

If only she had been weaker, more pliable. Then he might have been certain she would not run from him when he revealed his true self and his testing of her…abilities… might progress more quickly. He shuddered pleasantly as he imagined her, on her knees, calling him ‘master’. And yet, it had not been so terrible when she had taken the lead with that kiss…he had rather enjoyed it. It seemed more real than before, with those insipid women who had called him ‘Prince’. And he had not slept beside any of them. No. Caitlyn was exceptional, and like all exceptional things, she was his. Soon all would be his.

A thunderclap in the distance echoed loudly in his head, and for a moment the sky was lit bright as day. He knew this not to be the case. This was merely a symptom of Thor’s arrival to Midgard. Only Loki could sense it this strongly. In cases such as this it provided a huge tactical advantage; to know where the enemy was at all times. Thor knew this much and no doubt awaited Loki to find him for some ill-judged and ill-matched attempt at reasoning. He hated to leave her behind, but he would soon return. “You are mine.” He whispered to the sleeping figure. “My beautiful obsession.”  
   


#### Part 2 – Brothers and Kings

Thor stood on a mountain top, awaiting his brother. The lightning above threatened to crack the skies in two and tear apart the Yggdrasil. Travelling from Asgard to Midgard took too long. Days might have passed on Earth during the trip. Only Loki had managed such journeys in shorter time. This meant he was always behind, always following the trail of chaos left in Loki’s wake.

No doubt Loki had already begun to work his evil on the mortals. All this to punish Thor: for falling to Earth, for loving, for defeating a brother he wished only to save. He felt his heart leap unexpectedly when Loki appeared before him, looking for a moment so unlike the vicious creature he had imagined. He was in battle armour, gold and green, and summoned some of the regality he had once held. He looked well. 

“Why did you summon me here, Thor Odinson?” Loki called against the thunder.

“Brother…”

“I am not your brother! So do not call me as such. I am Loki, son of Laufey! Frost giant!” He could barely control his rage, face briefly shining blue, with red eyes full of hate. “Loki; enemy of the people of Asgard and Midgard, and no doubt the other realms.” Loki circled, keeping his distance.

“No matter what you have done, you will always be my brother, Loki!” Thor shouted. “But you must stop this, you must come with me; come home.” The illusions of Loki spun, and he couldn’t tell which was which. If only he would stop, if only he could look into the tortured eyes of his brother.

“Return to Asgard and face Odin’s punishment? I think not.” Loki sneered. “Unlike you I have wits enough to know what that entails.”

“Our father is fair. I’m sure if I speak to him…” Thor would beg mercy for Loki. He would do anything for him. He could not so easily throw away years of brotherhood and friendship as Loki had.

“How _kind_ of you, how _generous_ , Thor. Well, I’m afraid I must decline. You see, I’ve come to like this Midgard, this ‘Earth’, of yours. I think I might stay here a while.” There was menace in his smile, cold and heartless.

“Loki, I will not let you harm these people!”

Loki broke his gaze, smirking and staring at the ground below. “Ah, yes. Thor: great champion of Earth! Defender of the mortals. Hero! Is that what they call you? Hero! The god whose name they call to the heavens when they seek a great protector?” the words through a smile turned into a hiss “How long, I wonder, until they curse your name, until they call you villain? Until those golden banners they proudly wave turn to weapons of hate. I promise you, _brother_ , it comes so easily!”

“Is that what you seek here? Worship? Come home with me and I shall worship you as Prince and brother.” He reached out to the image of Loki, but it slipped apart like dust. “Take such things from me, Loki. Do not bleed them from these people.”

Loki shook his head, almost laughing. “All I seek is happiness, and I believe I will reach that.” He finally stood still, staring through eyes of sharp green. “Pray, Thor Odinson, do not try to stop me. If I cannot have happiness I shall have vengeance.”

“Loki, you must return with me.”

Loki smiled. “No, _you_ must return, dear brother, not I. I have no kingdom to run. Not yet.”

“Loki!” Thor called after his brother, but Loki shimmered from him to places unknown.  
   


#### Part 3 – Shouldn’t

Caitlyn awoke alone. She looked around her at the remains of last night’s affairs; paper strewn on the floor, a trail of clothes leading from the doorway. His shirt was still there. She pulled on a silk dressing gown, exploring with some curiosity. Not in the bathroom. She tread lightly down the stairs. Surely he hadn’t run off topless. She lightly pressed on the kitchen door, letting it slowly swing open.

“Good morning.” He smiled, blowing on a hot cup of coffee. There he was; shirtless in her kitchen.

“Hi.” She managed to say.

“Did you think I’d left?” he asked, smirking.

“Well you would have looked pretty silly out there half-naked.”

“Silly? Do I look silly?” he asked, strolling towards her with a swaggering self-confidence. He placed the mug gently down on the counter top. “Well then, perhaps you should look silly with me.” He pulled on the ties of the dressing gown. “Oh yes. Very silly.”

She could feel his interest as he pushed the silk fabric from her shoulders and let it pool on the floor. “You’re cold.” she gasped as his arm brushed hers.

“Do you want to warm me up?” he whispered in her ear, fingertips deftly caressing her spine.

“I told you, it was the last time.” She moaned as he nipped her neck.

“Oh, but Caitlyn, the last time is never truly the last time.” His hand slipped down her naked waist. “There are always reunions… accidental meetings… second chances…” he stroked her, softly “Next time,” he whispered “you shall come to me.”

“And if I don’t?” she asked.

He smiled, not answering. His hands wrapped tightly around her waist, and he lifted her onto his shoulder.

“Put me down!” she yelled.

“If you insist on finishing with me, I shall at least give you something more to remember.”

She couldn’t see his face, but she knew he was smiling. “Put me down, John. I swear to god…”

“I will. I just haven’t decided where…”

_You shouldn’t like this, Caitlyn_.  
   


#### Part 4 – As My Friend 

Despite the humming engines, the inside of the Stark jet was surprisingly quiet. Tony sat, arms crossed, staring into space, completely ignoring Banner.

“Are you upset, Tony?” Banner asked. “It’s only because I’ve worked with the equipment before. That’s what Fury said.”

“Yeah, well Fury can suck my balls.” Tony huffed. “He’s put me in the dog house, just because I hacked him a little…and maybe he had a point with the whole: _don’t let Tony around sick kids, he’s probably just going to upset them_ , I mean, I’m no Captain Christmas-Special…but I got him the lead, and I practically told him I was super-bored and ready to party.”

“I’m sorry. Did you want to spend a week installing a hospital with surge trackers and gamma-sensors?” Banner tried very hard not to sound sarcastic, but whatever way he said it, Tony was going to take it badly.

“No.” Tony straightened his tie angrily. “But, you know, it’s nice to be asked.”

_“Touch-down in eight minutes, Sir.”_

He gave up on the tie and threw it on the ground. “Is it just me, or is the air super-thin up here?”

“I didn’t notice.” Banner shrugged.

“Hey, don’t pretend you’re not loving this.” Tony accused him.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“The whole: _oh-my-god, you’re Bruce Banner_!” he put on a high-pitched voice and waved his arms about. “Your happiness sickens me.”

“I know you don’t mean it, Tony.” Banner smiled.

“Yeah, whatever.” He put on his sunglasses to hide his bloodshot eyes. “Just don’t go crushing on the fan-girls. Most of ‘em are fucking crazy.”

“I’m not…” Banner stuttered. “I didn’t…that’s not why…it’s just nice to be recognised as Doctor Banner, you know. Not ‘ _that maladjusted scientist who turns into an unstoppable killing machine_ ’.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t mind the maladjusted scientist. I think he fit the misfit club just fine.”

“You’re _jealous_.” Banner stated.

“Pfft.” He exhaled “No I’m not.”

“You are.” He stared in disbelief. “You’re jealous that I’m making new friends.”

“They probably won’t even like you anyway.” Tony muttered, adjusting his seat.

“How old are you, Tony?”

“Eughm.” Tony cleared his throat. “Thirty…eight…” he picked at his fingernails. “…and eighteen months.” He didn’t make eye contact, he just busied himself with the next fidget. “Just don’t go forgetting about me when you’re having your doctor parties and test-tube orgies and whatnot.”

“Got it. You’re invited to all the doctor parties and test-tube orgies.” Banner laughed.

“I’m not saying I’d go. It’s just nice to be asked…” Tony muttered as the plane began its descent.

“You know, not as a doctor, but speaking as your friend,” Banner smiled. “You know you’re crazy, right?”

Tony stretched his arms out, then brought his hands back behind his head. “I’m thinking of getting a therapist.”

“You really should.”

“As my friend; shut the fuck up.” Tony grunted, but couldn’t hold back a smile.


	16. Consequences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains Loki in full-on evil mode. If you happen to be squeamish, Part 3 is probably not for you.

### Chapter 16 - Consequences

#### Part 1 – Natural State 

Loki ran his slender fingers through her hair, smiling broadly. She was fun to tease.

“I told you, you have to go.” She laughed. “I’m serious. You can’t keep making that face at me. I’ve got stuff to do…” She tried to pull the sheet across her body. “…that doesn’t involve me…being naked.”

“Are you sure?” he purred, pinning her down. He liked the feel of her hot skin against his.

“Yes!” she shoved him back. “And you can’t keep making me beg. It’s demeaning.”

He grinned further “But I want to demean you, debase you, and most of all: humiliate you.”

“You are so twisted.”

He shrugged, still smiling. “It is my natural state…to be above you.”

“Why? Because you’re a man?”

“No.” he laughed “Because I am…”

He nearly let slip the word ‘ _God_ ’.

“…me.” That had been rather too close for comfort. He had allowed himself to relax too deeply; to slip into her succour smile.

“Well, you can take your natural state and get out of here. I mean it.”

He hummed, kissing her neck. “Hmm. I suppose I shall have to. But you will come to me, and you don’t want to make me wait.” He tugged at her hair. “There shall be consequences.” 

 

#### Part 2 – Press Conference

He hated these stupid things, especially when it wasn’t even his idea. ‘ _Give them something_ ’ Fury had said ‘ _anything. We’ll take care of the rest_ ’. Yeah. Great. Except that it wasn’t all taken care of. He still had to show up, put on a stupid smile and act the caring billionaire. Stupid Bill, throwing off the curve for the rest of them. He wasn’t in the mood for this crap. His sunglasses quite obviously indicated that he was on a shitty hangover, and he hadn’t slept right in days. He was really tired, though.

He got out of the car, waved and smiled, and did all those things he was expected to do: show up, act like you give a crap, try not to assault anyone. Most of the questions he just yawned through. They only wanted the shots anyway: a big-shot turning up in a stupid, tiny, rainy country.

“Mr Stark!” A shiny-haired reporter shouted. “Chris Holt, BBC News 24. Could you tell us your reasons behind such a substantial donation?”

Tony Stark glanced down at the note Shield had prepared for him. Fuck it. “Em, Charity ‘n shit.”

“The BBC would like to apologise for the language you just heard there…” the reporter mumbled into the mic.

_Yeah, damn right you fucking apologise, ‘cause there’s no way I’m doing it._

“Are we done? I’ve got stuff to do.” Stark asked, gazing over the rim of his trademark sunglasses. “Worlds to save and whatnot…”

“Mr Stark, is there any truth behind the rumours that you’ve split from your long-term partner, Miss Potts?” An annoying blonde asked from the back.

“Alright, who keeps letting these people in here?” he picked up his jacket and tossed it onto his shoulder. “I’m going. See ya.”

“Mr Stark!” a man called “Mr Stark! How does this new scanner work?”

“I’m gonna direct that question to…” he looked behind him to one of the Shield guys who was waving his hands frantically “This guy here. Hi. Yeah, you. I know. Big moment. Don’t screw it up.” He walked to his waiting Lamborghini. “Bye now.”

“Mr Stark!” another called. “Mr Stark!”

He slammed the door shut, miming through the tinted window. “What? I can’t hear you.” He laughed a little.

“Does that guy know anything about your equipment?” Banner asked.

“You gotta think before you ask a question, Brucey. That last one came out real weird.” Tony smirked.

Banner cleared his throat. “Um…yeah…but, um…I mean…”

“I know what you mean, dude. I just like messing with you. No, I’m pretty sure that Shield guy has no idea how it works. Hell, I was drunk when I designed it, I can’t even remember half of what went into it.”

“Well, how does it…I mean, is it safe?” Banner’s brow furrowed.

“Relax, Bruce. You don’t even need to switch it on. Just install your crap, see what’s what, then I’ll make some phoney apology and give ‘em a big fat cheque instead.”

“But…is it radioactive or anything?”

Tony rolled his eyes “Jesus, Bruce. If there’s anyone who doesn’t need to worry about any more radiation exposure, it’s you.”

“Tony, I’m not going in there with a bomb and pretending I know what I’m doing.” He leant forward, trying to keep eye contact with an avoidant Tony Stark. “You need to…Tony…Tony…you need to answer me…”

He yawned. “Sorry Bruce. Keep drifting off. No, no radiation in it. Not that I remember.” He shook his head. “Something with magnets…I don’t really know. Most of the stuff I make has magnets in it…” He glanced down at his glowing chest plate and gave it a knock. “You still workin’ for me, huh?”

Bruce tilted his head in a way he remembered was supposed to be comforting. “Are you alright, Tony? You seem a little…I don’t know.”

“I’ll be fine, I just need to get some sleep.” He grumbled “And some scotch.”

“Have you talked to Pepper yet?”

“Not yet. I don’t know what to say. Plus, I learned my lesson not to drink and dial since that whole fiasco in ’05.”

“Fiasco?” Bruce asked, puzzled.

“Yeah, it’s a fiasco if someone gets arrested. Don’t worry, it didn’t stick. I have a lawyer like you would not believe! Another case like that and I get a free divorce.”

“That’s…comforting.” Banner nodded and pulled a smile. Maybe Tony was right. Maybe he wasn’t ready to listen to other people’s problems. Not if they were this annoying. 

 

#### Part 3 – Understanding

Shield council member Williams knew something was wrong as soon as he closed the front door, even before he saw the figure waiting for him. The lock shut with a solid click, but the familiar beep of his security system never came. And the lock would no longer open. He went for the panic button, installed to the right of the doorframe, but that too refused to recognise his efforts. The phone in his pocket failed to respond.

A cool clear voice called from out of the darkness behind him. “Please, Mr Williams, take a seat.”

With firmly clenched fingers he went for the switch, to see his captor. He recognised him immediately from the mission reports. There, sitting calmly on his couch, and slowly sipping his scotch, was the war criminal Loki. “Mr Loki. I don’t recall inviting you into my home.”

Loki laughed. “You were surprised to see me! That is good.” He indicated to the chair. “Now, if you would.” He gently placed the glass upon the table. “Please, Mr Williams. Do not make me ask a third time. I do wish to be civil.”

There was something dark running beneath the surface of those words, and so Williams decided to comply.

“Excellent. Now we both understand.” Loki smiled, thin lips drawn back over sharp teeth.

“No, Mr Loki. I don’t understand.” Williams searched the lining of the armrest with his fingers, looking for the hidden slot containing his pistol. “Why are you here?”

“Oh, I should have thought that was obvious.” Loki shook his head, pulling the gun out of his own pocket and emptying the magazine. From a different pocket he pulled a small dulled knife, and he slid it across the table. “You are a member of the organisation Shield, are you not?” he asked. “One in quite a substantial position of power; otherwise why should I deign to appear in person?” he indicated to the knife. “Take it.”

A cold sickness rose through him as he did. He began to suspect what was going to happen next. “Are you going to control my mind?” he asked.

“I would, Mr Williams, but unfortunately that seems not to last.” He took another slow sip. “I will, do not mistake me in that, but first I shall give you cause not to betray your God.”

“There’s only one God, Mr Loki, and he doesn’t carry knives.” He placed the object on the table and heard it clatter.

“I suggest you pick that up.” He hissed. “I promise you, I shall make it more painful if you do not.”

He stood up, looking over Loki’s head, staring straight ahead. “Jack Williams, Lieutenant General US Army, Serial Number: five two seven eight…”

Loki’s face turned to snarling hate as he rose above, and a glancing blow sent Williams to the floor.

 

As the blackness subsided, he found himself once more in the chair, unable to move. There were no ropes or tape, he was held down by something else.

Loki circled him, testing the weight of the knife. “What do you know of pain, Mr Williams?”

He stayed silent; his jaw was still aching from the punch.

“Do you know, for instance, the areas of the body most sensitive to pain?” he held the knife before him, letting the light glint off its surface. “I found it quite surprising. It seems that they are the palms, and the lips. Or at least, that’s what they should be. Those are the areas of the human body with the densest pain receptors. But, in fact, there is a strong psychological component to it…” he brought the knife closer and closer, inches from his face. “I find that the greatest pain comes from the eyes.” He swung the blade from in front of one eye to the other. “The knife is a knife no longer; it is the tool of a vengeful creature that says _‘I will turn your world dark’_.”

His eyelashes brushed the tip of the blade, resting in front of his left eye. He sweat cold and felt his breath catch.

“Oh, yes. There it is. That is fear, Mr Williams. That is such exquisite fear.” Loki grinned, pulling back the blade. “That is the fear you owe me, and what I shall expect from you as your conqueror.”

With no word of warning Loki stabbed the knife deep into Williams’ paralysed left palm. He screamed as the blade twisted, tearing with a hot red fury. Loki drove the blade upwards, along his index finger, and to the tip, splitting the skin open.

“Jack Williams, Lieutenant General US Army, Serial Number: five two seven eight nine…”

This did not go down well with Loki, who snarled and moved the knife again. The dull blade slowly tore through the flesh of his thumb, blood oozing out. The harshest pain came as Loki dripped the alcohol over his wounds. As it sank in deeper, a hot and sharp stinging surged like spitting acid from the mouth of some viper. And worst of all, he couldn’t move. He couldn’t distract from the pain. It was harsh and scalding and relentless. Every inch of shorn skin cried out. Hot drops of red slipped out making his hands wet with blood.

Loki paused, having finished his work on the other hand. “Tell me, how does it feel?”

“Fuck you.” Williams swore.

A hiss of laughter followed. “Sir, I believe you have let slip your true self, beyond the forced façade.” He held the man’s head back, slipping the knife between his lips. “Would you have me cut out your traitorous tongue? No? Then you must hold it still.”

Williams could taste his own blood as the knife lay against his tongue. He began to gag on the taste of it.

“What is it?” Loki asked, withdrawing the knife. “Do you have something to tell me?”

“FUCK YOU!”

Loki sighed, stepping back. “I did not want to resort to this, but you have left me little choice.” He reached up to the bookshelf, pulling down the single framed photograph.

Williams shook. “No.”

“This is your daughter, isn’t it?” he asked, holding the picture between them. His voice was no longer mocking, but resigned. “Her name is Eva. She’s eight years old. Five days a week, she lives with her mother at one-three-seven…”

“Stop.” 

“I do not wish this any more than you do, Mr Williams. I do not like hurting women and children. I do not enjoy it. And if you insist on forcing my hand, I shall be upset.” He put the picture down on the table, facing him. “Do you understand? I will not tolerate betrayal. Now, you have suffered this pain admirably, but I can bring you so much more suffering than you can bear. I am well practiced in this. Tell me you understand.”

“I understand.”

“You understand the consequences of betrayal?”

“Yes. I understand.” He nodded. Not her. Not Eva.

Loki nodded in recognition. He set down the knife and healed the open wounds, leaving only a small scar at the base of his left thumb. “You bear this scar so that they should not have to.” Loki said softly. He pulled a golden pen from his pocket, and held the tip to the bound man’s chest.

One flash of blue and it was all over.


	17. Bleed Like Me

### Chapter 17 – Bleed Like Me

#### Part 1 – A Kindness

Loki wiped the blade with a small piece of cloth, setting it back on the table. “You may keep it.” He announced. “If your old self should resurface, I would have him know he would be better to slit his own throat than betray his God.”

“Yes, Master Loki.” Williams replied, taking the knife gladly and placing it in his breast pocket. He knelt before his master. “What would you have me do?” The once proud Williams lay submissive at his feet.

Loki smiled broadly. This was what he had wanted. “You can start…” he paced the room. “…by offering me something more to drink.”

“Of course, my Master.”

“Now, is this not simpler? Is this not better?” he asked, smiling, holding out his glass to be filled. “There need be no suffering, no pain, no deep _unending_ torment…”

Once the glass was filled Williams knelt once more.

“Tell me, Mr Williams: do you not prefer _this_ to the pain I could inflict?” he took a sip “…and give me the true answer, the one that resides deep within the traitor’s heart.”

“It is a joy to serve, Master Loki. That being said; if my will returned I would prefer death to this.”

Loki slapped him hard across the face. What stung fiercest was the honesty in it; there it was, plain as day, the true feelings at the heart of the seized soul.

Williams knelt again, still smiling through empty blue eyes. He had felt the pain, but did not care. Such a loyal subject would never object to the hand of his master.

“Why? That is what I do not understand.” He sighed. “Do your people have some desire to suffer? A morbid fascination with rebellion and martyrdom?” he sank into a heavy chair and pulled close the framed image. “You are all such sentimental creatures.” He traced the child’s face. “Bleating and whining as soon as the young are made to suffer…you foolish, sentimental things. You are all so young. You need a father to guide your hands, and to chastise you when you have disobeyed.”

“Yes, Master Loki.” The man assented.

“On your hands and knees.” Loki ordered. “I wish to rest my feet.”

Williams obeyed, and Loki laid his heavy boots upon the man’s back.

“You know, I could have you kill her.” He stated, waving the image before the man’s face. “I could have you choke this little thing until her eyes grew dull. I _choose_ not to. Is that not kind of me? Is that not the mark of a benevolent God?” he opened the frame and slipped the picture out, folding it and placing it into his pocket.

“Yes, my God Loki.” He replied.

Loki shook his head. “Then why do you test me?” he sighed. “Kindness finds kindness in return. I offer you so many chances…and yet, at every turn you disappoint me. You must know you have neither the intellect nor the strength to fight me, and yet you persist. It is quite juvenile, really.” He ran a hand through his hair and then finished the rest of the drink.

“You will teach us, father.” The man almost pleaded for his master’s guidance.

He set the glass down, smiling. “Yes, perhaps I shall.” He looked into the obedient face of his footstool. “Oh, it does please me to hear you talk like this, and to see you in your rightful place…” there was something in it that warmed him. He moved his feet, and went to stand, indicating for the man to kneel at his feet once more. “I want you to spend more time with your daughter. I understand you have failed in this regard, but you shall be the model example of a father to her. This is what I will.” He walked away from the beaming subject, turning at the last to utter a phrase he hoped would endure. “Let it not be said that the God of Lies never did you a kindness.”

With that he slipped through the heavy curtains of the world, to a place beyond. 

 

#### Part 2 – The Price of Change

Frigga felt the ground collapse beneath her and tasted metal on her tongue. All was shaking, fracturing light, and in the midst she heard her son: Loki. His face was twisted and pained, tinged with red. His hollow voice echoed out, clear as the lark in the night:

_‘Asgard deserves to fall!’_

It shook her as her eyes rolled forwards once more. This premonition had seemed different than those before. Not just in content, but in the deliberateness of its message. This was manifest fate. This was a promise of suffering. Nature had seen her meddling, and she was angry. She would have her revenge. What foolish, foolish hope she had held; that this time, if only once, she could break destiny. She never wanted him to suffer, to writhe in agony until the end of days; that was all she had thought of. She only wanted to save Loki, her beloved son, from what fate had in store for him, but in doing so she had summoned something far, far worse…

She cleared the remnants of potions from the table: various vials and vessels, herbs, scattered runes, and the entrails of an _Agapornis_. These were tools of magic she had no right to use. She had searched ancient books, even called out to worlds beyond the living for aid, all to find something, anything, that would prove strong enough to save him. She had not realised it would come with quite so great a price. She flushed with shame; no-one must know of what had been done. Certainly not her husband. She would hide every evidence, deny every fact. Somehow, some way, she would fix this, and no-one need know of her folly.

She took off into the night, cape drawn over her face, and rode towards the shattered bifrost. She would confess what he already knew. She would find some way to make penance. Heimdall was always her confidant, and he would certainly know what she should do. He could make this better.

“Heimdall?” Frigga asked, shaking slightly. “Might I speak with you?”

“Of course, my lady.” He bowed his head slightly. “What do you wish to say?”

Her voice cracked “Heimdall, I have done something…something unforgivable.” She brought her hand to her trembling lips. “I know as much; but I want you to know it was all done with good intent.”

“I know to what you refer.” He replied, smiling warmly. “It is not such a terrible thing.”

“I have used magics I could not hope to control…” she stumbled “Heimdall, I have set things into motion…” She looked out into the darkness beyond the stars. “I have changed the course of events…”

“You have had a vision?” Heimdall asked.

“Yes…”

“What did it show?”

She shook her head, trying to cast out the vile memories. “Fragments…Terrible things…Death and destruction. I say no more for fear I shall make it fate.”

“I will prevent it, my Lady. There is always a way.”

“Not this time. I…” a coldness clutched at her bones.

He placed a hand upon her shoulder. “My Lady. If it is truly to come to pass, I shall see it in time. Has this not always been so?”

“Heimdall, I have upset nature herself. I have gone against her wishes and she will repay me with pain a thousand times over.” A tear slipped down her cheek, and she caught it quickly.

“We need not pay so much heed to nature’s ways.” He smiled. “They are often undone.”

“It is one thing to undo a change, and quite another to create out of nothing.” She shook. “There is a price to creation; it is too great, I fear.” Words pained her. “Heimdall. I…I cannot take back what has started. You must promise me, that whatever should fall, you will defend us. You must protect me, and Asgard; no matter the cost.”

“My Lady,” he smiled “I have already sworn this in oath: I would give my life to defend the realm. You need not worry about such things.” His hand was warm and steady, a comfort she did not deserve.

She cursed the question on her lips. She cursed fate for making it. She buried her head in her hands, summoning the courage to ask it. She finally looked to him, his eyes of gold.

“Would you take the life of an innocent?”

It hung in the air, ringing cold. She could not look into his eyes any longer without tears returning.

He bowed low before her, with sombre expression. “Yes, my lady.” A phrase complete. No more, nor less than that.

   


#### Part 3 – On the Third Day

Loki waited impatiently for her to return to him. The first day it had amused him slightly, to let her remain firm to her promise, as it would make it all the sweeter when she did succumb. He even purposefully ignored her actions, only taking infrequent glances of her: as she read from papers and screens, as she ate from strange food containers, and as she lay in her bed at night. The first night he did not even lay beside her. He did not want to be beaten.

The second day became more painful. He found his concentration frequently slipping; and more than once, without meaning to, he had entered the world of reflection to glimpse her. How could she deny him? How was that even possible? She walked through market stalls, only briefly removing that music from her ears in order to listen to the sound of ticking clocks. How bizarre. Later, she almost taunted him as she removed her clothes, then wore some kind of fitted Midgardian wear for the purposes of swimming. The way she moved through the water, stretching, twisting, those gasping breaths…it was enough to drive him to despair. If he had not known better, he might have thought she was doing it to torment him. But she couldn’t have known. Still, that night, he found himself returning to her bed. He watched her as she slept. She lay on her back, and slowly, carefully, he knelt above her. He contemplated pinning her down, and taking what was his. Perhaps, through some illusion he could convince her that she still slept. But, no; he would know, and this would mean he had failed.

On the third day he grew spiteful. She smiled and joked with Dr Banner, the two quickly became fast friends, or at least in his eyes. Banner: that shadow-soul. He would be damned to Hel if he would let the Hulk’s cage win smiles from his prize. Damn the danger in it, damn the consequence; this time he returned in flesh form, to create a little chaos. He started small: moving things, switching off equipment. When that failed to generate a reaction, he summoned the illusion of a snake, curled and writhing: that made her scream. As soon as she had closed her eyes, he let it fade. Her brow furrowed, and she pressed her temples. _‘I’m going mad.’_ she whispered to herself.

And yet…still nothing. Evidently she did not spare him even a second thought; too busy with the illustrious _Dr Banner_ , who seemed to appear every time he took a glance through the mirror…

No. He would not lose. He would not give in to her childish ways. She must be taught humility. She would be made to obey her God.  
 

#### Part 4 – Circles

Caitlyn sighed, trying to keep herself together. “I’m going mad.” she whispered to herself. _There are no snakes in the hospital. Snakes don’t live in this hospital. They barely live in this country._ She pressed her hands over her eyes. Hallucinations weren’t normal. Neither was that feeling that had hung over her all day; like someone was watching her.

It was entirely unfair. She had finally met Dr Bruce Banner face-to-face, and it just so happened to be the day she was going mad. _Typical_. She sighed once more, and picked up the contents of her spilled tray. “Ow!” she hissed. And now she was bleeding. That’s what you get for being distracted. She cleared up the tray and broken glass, getting blood everywhere.

_You need to stop thinking about him._

She tried to ignore her inner monologue, because thinking about not thinking about him was actually not all that different from thinking about him. Once or twice she could have sworn she even glimpsed him out of the corner of her eye… she ran her hand under the tap, trying to see if there was anything still in the wound. She didn’t want one of the surgeons to go at it with a pair of tweezers if she could avoid it.

_Stop it. Stop thinking about him._ she told herself. _He’s a bad guy. You know he’s a bad guy. He’s so wrong for you, and you don’t do this. You don’t get caught up in this kind of thing. You know who you are, and you’re not someone who lets herself get treated like this. You know who you are, don’t you?_

“Why do I talk to myself in the second person?” she blurted out.

“Um…I…” Dr Banner replied from behind her. “I…uh…”

“Sorry, I’m sorry Dr Banner.” She flushed. “I wasn’t…I was kind of shouting…at myself…”

“Ok…” he replied.

God, this was awkward. “Sorry, are you alright? Did you need my help with something?” she smiled. It was taking more and more effort to be the upbeat, confident half of the conversation.

“No, it’s, em…” he held up a small blinking box. “The sensor here…it went off…and so, em…” he paused “It’s probably nothing, just a glitch in the hardware…I…um…” he slowly backed out of the room. “I’ll run some more tests…”

_Typical._ She told herself. _Typical, typical. You know this is what always happens, don’t you? You’re always the shoulder to cry on, but when you get a little crazy, suddenly it’s eerie silence. People expect you to be what you’re not. They don’t want you to break down. They don’t want to see…_ she opened one of the plasters and pressed it over her thumb. _This is why you don’t get attached. You don’t…don’t give them the chance to disappoint you. It’s not fair to them. It really wasn’t fair to Dr Banner; he was so nice, and kind and clever, and then she let him let her down. Now it was going to be really awkward, and…Stop. You’re overthinking again. You’ve got into the circle…You can’t do this, not again._

Her train of thought was broken when she heard screaming from down the corridor. “Help! Doctor!”

She dropped everything and sprinted after it.  
 

#### Part 5 – Instinct

Dr Banner shook his head. Something really strange was going on here, and it had something to do with Dr Black. _Caitlyn, not Dr Black,_ he reminded himself. _She said you should call her Caitlyn, so you should call her Caitlyn._ Every time the sensors flashed up she was always nearby, and it was clear that something was getting to her. He just didn’t know what. He didn’t even know how to ask. He had just stood there, dumbstruck, when she was clearly freaking out about something. He needed to do more research: that was the answer. If he could track this thing, test it, maybe he could fix whatever was happening…

“Help! Doctor!” someone shouted from the room just behind him.

“I…um…I don’t…” he responded, but when he saw the blood his years of medical training snapped into action. “Call the crash team, get me a pack of gauze and 1000mls Gelofusine.”

He didn’t have time to think. He ran in, and pressed his hands down on the girl’s bleeding neck. “We need IV access.” he told Dr Black, who nodded and went to get a cannula. Blood spurted from between his fingers, and so he twisted and pressed tighter.

Dr Black called to one of the watching nurses. “Phone vascular. Tell them it’s an emergency.” She slipped the needle into a thick vein beneath the scored skin. “And see if we have a group and save; if not, O negative.”

“Should…should I phone the labs?” the nurse stumbled.

“Try the emergency bleep. If you don’t get through first time, just get one of the porters to run it while you’re phoning.” She said, connecting up the drip and squeezing the contents of the bag into shrinking veins.

Banner wasn’t even thinking. He was running on instinct…but not thinking meant that he couldn’t keep himself in check. It meant that he hadn’t seen the warning signs. He hadn’t felt his pulse raise that fraction higher than it should. He hadn’t realised that his skin had begun to stretch…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone still reading. This chapter took a while to come together, mostly because it's the first one I hadn't actually plotted beforehand.
> 
> I'd love to know what you think.
> 
> Thanks.  
> Pinch x
> 
> PS. Yes, the chapter title is a reference to the song by Garbage. :)


	18. Place and Purpose

### Chapter 18 – Place and Purpose

#### Part 1 – This Time

“Dr Banner?” Caitlyn asked. “Dr Banner, are you alright?” she stared as his skin turned pale…almost green. He was sweating, and looked as though he might vomit. “Kevin. I’m going to take over from Dr Banner. I need you to do what I’m doing right now. Ok?” she ordered the student as she placed her hands over Banner’s. His fingers seemed to writhe beneath hers. “It’s Ok. I’ve got her.”

Banner ran from the room, his glasses clattering to the floor on the way.

“Jane?” she asked the bleeding girl. “Jane, can you hear me? It’s going to be ok.” The blood was coming out twice as fast as they could replace it. It wouldn’t be long until cardiac arrest.

Jane spluttered a little, frothing blood oozing from her mouth and neck.

“Intubation kit!” she shouted to a nurse, then turned back to her patient “Jane, listen to me. Listen to the sound of my voice. You’re going to be ok. Alright?”

_What have you done this time, Jane? What have you done to yourself now?_

   


#### Part 2 – My Best Friend

Bruce was changing…he couldn’t stop it now. He had to run. He had to get out of there.

It wasn’t safe. He had been alright for so long…why now? Why, just when he thought he could get things back… _No, Hulk. Not now. Please_ …He could feel sinews tear, bones scream.

But, through all the panic, all the pain, he heard a faint sound, soft and sweet. He couldn’t tell what it was. He couldn’t make out words…but…he couldn’t…couldn’t…He stared at his hands: they had stopped changing. Everything had stopped. Not slowed, not altered, but…stopped.

“Hello.” A small voice called, making him jump.

“Uh…” he squinted. “Hi.”

“You’re Doctor Banner.” The boy stated. He couldn’t have been more than four or five years old, and he was very thin, with a large bandage on his neck.

“…yeah…” he replied awkwardly.

“Why are you hiding?” he asked.

“Um…I’m not…” he stumbled, deciding to sit on the floor in the opposite corner of the stairwell.

The boy shrugged. “Looks like you’re hiding.”

“I guess it does.” Banner sighed. “…are you hiding?”

The boy nodded.

“What…what are you hiding from?” he asked, as calmly as he could.

“Bad things.” He replied, burying his head in his knees.

“Bad things? In there?” Banner asked, indicating to the ward. “Do you mean what’s happening now?”

“No…I don’t know…” he shook his head. “There’s something bad in there.”

“You mean, with that girl?”

“No. She’s the Machine Girl. She’ll be ok.”

“…Machine Girl?” Banner asked, unsure if he was hearing things.

“She’s a robot. She told me. The cuts don’t hurt; they just let her see the wires.”

“Oh.” Banner nodded with an understanding expression. He had no idea what to say to that. At least one of those kids had pretty severe delusions…

“She’s going to be ok.” The boy repeated, nodding continually, and rocking slightly as he clutched his knees.

“…You said there were bad things. Are they bad people?”

“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “I can’t see them. I just know…” He whispered “It’s safe here.”

“Well, my name’s Bruce Banner” he smiled, taking out his Shield ID “and I’m here to catch the bad things.”

“Really?” the boy asked, eyes wide. “Like Mr Angry?”

“Just like Mr Angry.” Bruce almost laughed. That nickname was quite catchy. “So if anything’s wrong, you just let me know, because it’s my job to stop it.”

“Ok.” The boy smiled. “Are you a hero? Like Iron Man?”

“Actually, Iron Man’s a friend of mine.” He grinned.

“No!”

“Yeah!” Bruce nodded, almost surprised himself. “He’s my best friend.”

“Wow!” he stared in amazement. “What’s he like?”

“Uh…” he hadn’t planned for this question “He’s, um…he’s great. He’s…” _a borderline-alcoholic, bipolar mess…_ “He’s got a lot of heart.”

“Oh.” The boy replied. “I’ve got a lot of glands in my neck.”

“That’s not really…” Bruce tried to clarify.

“But I’m going to be ok.” He smiled. “Doctor Caitlyn said.”

There it was. She was always in the middle of it. “Do you know Doctor Caitlyn?” he asked “I mean, would you know if something was upsetting her? If something didn’t seem right?”

He stared quizzically “But everything’s alright.”

“What I mean…”

He interrupted. “She sings the magic song, and you know everything’s alright.” The kid seemed insulted.

“The magic song? Which magic song?” he wasn’t up to date with kids.

The boy sighed, rolling his eyes. “The one with the cuckoo birds; and they’re happy, and that’s why they’re kings.”

“Oh, ok.” Banner nodded, having no idea what he was agreeing with.

“She was singing it again, just now. Didn’t you hear?”

“I…uh…” _Had he? Was that what that was?_ “I’ve…got to go…but, you just let me know if you need me…I…uh…” _That noise that had stopped him? That music?_

“Ok.” He answered, still resolutely curled in the corner.

Banner walked through the corridor, certain of two things; the first, that somehow, some way, Dr Black had something to do with stopping his transition; and, second, he couldn’t tell anyone. Someone who could control the Hulk; that was dangerous, and not just for him. There was definitely something going on here. Something important. But, if he could only figure it out, maybe he could…

The room was empty. Blood ran from the walls to the floor, dripping from the windowsill. He shuddered and looked away, closing the door shut. His sensor equipment beeped on the screen, and he already knew who he would find.  
   


#### Part 3 – For the Soul

“I don’t understand it. I don’t even know how she got the knife in the first place. I mean, didn’t we have her on one-to-one?” Caitlyn racked her brain, trying to find the answers. “Don’t we have safeguards in place for this kind of thing?”

“There’s no point trying to assign blame.” Dr Holly replied. “Jane is a very determined girl.”

“But still, I mean, she was getting better…She was opening up, and talking about it. She even seemed to make a few friends.” She shook her head “This just doesn’t make any sense. I mean, why now? Why today?”

“Sometimes when we open old wounds, they sting too fiercely.”

“But I should have seen something. I should…” she noticed the figure in the doorway “Dr Banner…Thank you, for your help today.” She nodded, words slightly broken, making a quick exit.

“Ah, Doctor Bruce Banner!” Dr Holly smiled, shaking his hand warmly. “A real pleasure to meet you in person. I’ve heard so much!”

“I, uh…thanks.” Banner smiled awkwardly. After a long time with Tony he wasn’t used to genuine praise. It took him a while to sort out sarcasm now.

“Yes, the Doctor of the World. Oh, I was once like you, Dr Banner; but, as age never fails to do, it crept in and made an old man out of a young one.”

“I, um, I’m not really…a doctor anymore…” he confessed.

“Oh, yes, I understand, but even those of us who leave behind the scalpel and the stethoscope never really stop being who we are.” He beamed. “Adventurers in science, eh?”

“Em, kind of…”

“You know, Caitlyn has been singing your praises ever since she got back.”

“I, um…that’s…” he blushed.

“Oh, I don’t mean anything untoward!” Dr Holly laughed “As a colleague, you understand.”

“Yeah.” Banner smiled awkwardly. _That made a lot more sense._

He sighed deeply, warm face drawn into frowns. “I worry about her.” He shook his head.

“W…why?”

“A long time ago, a colleague of mine said to me: the duty of a doctor is not to cure, but to care. I have never met anyone who embodies that ideal like Dr Black… she cares for every patient who walks through the door. She cares too fully and too often. We have to step back, if only slightly, just to carry on. But she doesn’t. She can’t. One day it may kill her.”

Perhaps it was the kind face, perhaps it was his encounter with the kid, but Banner felt something like guilt, and let the words flow from him. “Sometimes…I think I stepped back too far. Lost sight of things…”

“Ah, the siren call of pure science sounds to us all so great and so grand, but sadly it is a field that allows too many compromises. I feel sorry for you, Dr Banner; medicine is far safer for the soul.” Dr Holly patted him on the back. “Ah, well. Back to work. Idle thumbs are the Devil’s playthings.”

“…Yeah.” 

 

#### Part 4 – Round My Finger

Caitlyn descended the shadowed stairs, and stopped just short of knocking on his door. What was she doing? She didn’t want this. She couldn’t want this. It was just so wrong on so many levels. It wasn’t meant to be like this. It was supposed to be once and then over. And yet here she was, knocking on his door, begging for whatever scraps he would offer. She let her hand fall.

Just as she was about to turn away, he opened the door before her. There he was; eyes dark and full of want, his smile seeming to tower above her. Almost as if he knew she was coming. She waited for him to laugh at her, and send her away, but he didn’t. He opened the door further to allow her entrance. _No turning back now._ She felt herself as though in a trance, walking through and into his home. “Take off your dress.” He spoke calmly and in command.

“Why? Are you going to watch me?” she flirted with him. _Where the hell did that come from?_

He closed the door with a wolfish smile. He watched her as he walked past, and went to sit in a black leather chair. “Yes.” He crossed his legs, resting one arm across them. The other draped long fingers over his smiling lips. He indicated for her to start.

“And why should I do that?” she asked, smiling sweetly. She walked towards him, and stood within arms’ reach. _Why are you doing this?_ When she had dressed in the morning, was this what she had in mind? She didn’t want to think that.

He looked up at her and stated simply. “Because you have made me wait.”

_This really shouldn’t be hot. Come on Caitlyn, you didn’t go through five years of medical school to take your clothes off in front of men._ She told herself she wasn’t doing this for him, she was doing it because she wanted to. But it was a little bit for him; the way he commanded her, that air of self-assurance. She wanted to turn him on, and then walk away. Make him frustrated. Make him beg, just like he had made her do.

> _I want you round my finger.  
>  I need you round my finger. _  
> 

She stepped back, so she was out of reach, and began to give in to the tune that was echoing in her head. She let down her hair and shook it loose. He liked that. He had a thing about her hair. He unfolded his legs. “Could you unzip me?” she smiled, turning her back to him. She felt him brush her hair off her shoulder, and heard him inhaling the scent of it. He pulled down the zip of her dress, and she made sure to brush against him as he did. He was already hard.

“Damn you.” He cursed, running his fingers through her hair, and tugging her back, against him.

She gently pulled his hand from her. “Oh, no. You wanted me to take my clothes off for you. Slowly. Isn’t that right?” she smiled, standing and letting her dress slip to her waist. “ _Patience._ ” She pushed it past her hips, bending down as it slid.

It sounded like he appreciated the view.

She stood and kicked off her shoes. She turned to see him looking significantly more frustrated than when she’d walked in. _Now THIS is making you wait._

He went to rise, and she pushed him back, with her foot against his chest.

“And you could help with this, too.” She smiled, unclipping the stocking from her suspender belt.

He looked almost angry as he reached up to draw the thin material down her leg. Once he had finished she unclipped the other. This time she sat across his lap.

“Well?” she asked innocently.

One of his hands ran across her thigh, the other went to her hair. He grasped and pulled her head back, exposing her throat, then, ever so delicately, he slipped off the other stocking. “Is this because I made you beg?” he asked, free hand stroking down her leg.

“You know it is.” She smirked.

“And what did you expect your efforts to accomplish?” his lips almost touched her neck, his breath unnaturally cold. “I’m not going to just let you leave, Caitlyn. Not until I’ve had my fill.”

“I think you’d have to wait a long time for that…” she smiled. “I’m very addictive.”

“Then it is cruel of you deny me and return.” He kissed her throat. “Only to leave me once more.”

“I think you can handle it.” She stroked his hardened member through his trousers.

He groaned low. “You will be the death of me, woman.”

“You will be the death of me, _Doctor_.” She corrected him, squeezing tightly.

He moved her around to sit facing forward on his lap, and pinned her still, her arms at her sides. He pressed against her through his trousers. “How do you do this to me?” he asked, his hands sliding down over her bare thighs “I should…”

“What?” she replied coolly. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. She wouldn’t be afraid or ashamed. She would beat him at his own game. “What do you think I would let you do?”

“ _Let_ me do?” he laughed derisively. “I shall do precisely…As. I. Wish.” He tightened his grip on her.

She tried to escape him, but it was useless; he was stronger than anyone that thin had a right to be. When she struggled he just bucked his hips, no doubt enjoying the sensation. He expected her to try and tear his creeping fingers away, with memories of fresh embarrassment. Instead, she let her hands slide upwards, into his hair, and tug him forcefully back.

He groaned a little. “You are such a wilful thing.”

“I’m all wrong for you.” She retorted, determined to make him hurt.

“Undoubtedly.” He replied, hands rising higher, gripping more firmly, pulling her legs apart.

“And I…hate you.” She winced as he bit into her shoulder.

“Yes, we’ve already established that.” He sneered. “Ah!” he gasped in surprise when she pulled him back with force that threatened to tear out his hair.

“So, John. What are we going to do about this?” she asked, sliding forward and tilting her head back to look at him.

He was grinning. He leant down and kissed her lips. “Stop. Thinking.”

Jesus, even upside-down he still looked hot. Surely he must have some bad angle…

“Just…react.” He whispered.

“And what if I don’t react the way you want?”

“I will teach you.” He smiled, tilting her chin back at an almost painful angle. “I will lock you away, bind your ankles, and your wrists, gag you if necessary…and You. Will. Learn.” He teased her, a finger beneath the black lace.

She gasped at his touch. “Keep me here?”

“Of course. Do not fret; I will release you so that it does not interfere with your…daylight activities. But, until then…” he pulled her tight to him, and slid her underwear down her thighs. Then he turned her, to lie her face-down on his lap while she still struggled. He lifted the black lace and, deftly yet firmly, bound her wrists with it. He teased her again. He smiled, looking to her eyes and watching his work. “…You. Are. Mine.”

“Fuck you!” She replied, squirming.

“Yes. That _is_ the point.”

   


#### Part 5 – Place and Purpose

It would be remiss to say that Loki felt no guilt about what had happened with that young girl. He knew what she would do when provoked a little, and he understood how close it had been to ending the fragile one’s life. All that blood, shooting out like a fountain… Still; it had brought Caitlyn to him. It had broken her stubbornness and shown that woman her true purpose. She had virtually driven him to it. Foolish woman. There would be no more of that.

He smiled, looking at her as she struggled. He had wrapped her bound arms around his chest, as though holding him in an embrace, while she knelt upon him. And she was so frustrated to be gagged. It was beautiful. Now; to have this, but placed on the throne of Asgard: that would be something indeed. Why not take a mortal woman on that throne? It could hardly be desecrated any further than when a Jotun king had ruled in the old man’s stead.

“You know why you are here, don’t you Caitlyn?” he asked the bound woman. “It is because I wish it.” He stroked the side of her face. “Now I’m going to fuck you, because I wish it…as do you.” He smiled as shame crossed her cheeks. “And you are going to come for me…” he kissed the silk gag “…as a reward for your obedience.” He stood from the chair, lifting her with him, hands upon her naked behind. “Know your place and purpose.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For interest, "Machine Girl" referred to can be found here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jazyZ5Z4gn4
> 
> Pinch x


	19. Repose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Knife Play and, while not non-con, certainly in the dubious territory. If that makes you uneasy, skip part 1, then make yourself ready for some Nick Fury yelling instead :)
> 
> PS Sorry for the long break, but I'm back with more Loki-tastic creeps than ever!
> 
> x Pinch

### Chapter 19

#### Part 1 – Reap the Rewards

Loki realised his mistake almost as soon as he had begun. While the gag stifled her moans, giving him clearer focus, he missed the perfect sound of it. He missed her gasps, her cries of pleasure, even her spiteful words. He thrust deeply again, the heavy wooden desk shaking beneath her bare buttocks. That moan, that gagged moan. Oh, how he wanted to hear it clearly. But he couldn’t be seen to give in. He couldn’t let that power shift… Ah. He smiled as he thought of it; quite brilliant really.

“Do you trust me, Caitlyn?” he asked her.

She stared, eyes wide, and shook her head.

He laughed. “No? You should.” He placed his thumb over her clit and made small circles.

Another suppressed moan. It was as though she was doing it to torture him.

“Has _anything_ I have done…not been exactly what you needed? Have I ever made you feel regret?” he smiled as he continued. “No. Shame, perhaps, but not regret.” He thrust again. “So I ask you once more; Do you trust me?”

She flushed, tried to turn away, but when he brought her face to his, she nodded gently.

“I want you to close your eyes.” He whispered in her ear, taking the moment to inhale the scent of her hair. He could have devoured her. “Trust me, Caitlyn, and close your eyes.” He gently lay her down on the desk, all the while staying inside her. “Good. Now, no matter what happens, keep your eyes closed.”

Her heart began to race, body tensing in apprehension. Her eyes moved beneath the lids, trying to find a gap between the lashes where she might glimpse what was happening.

“Caitlyn, Caitlyn, you have been so good tonight. That is why I am rewarding you.” He smiled, his fingers gliding up and down her body. “I know you do not want to fall out of favour with me… when reward feels like this…” he stepped back, instead letting his expert tongue play upon her.

She moaned, her body writhing wantonly. Her hair cascaded across the surface of the desk. Her bound hands held above her made her seem to dance. But that damned gag…

“So, keep your eyes closed, and trust me.” He said softly, kissing her hot thighs. “Promise?”

She nodded silently.

He tested her, driving his thumbnail into her thigh. She winced, and struggled, but her eyes did not open. “Very good, Caitlyn. You are being so good for me.” He praised her, licking her again in reward. The wilful creature, letting herself be undone, be kept. It was so beautiful to behold. He wanted to take her roughly, make her cry out his true name. But that was not tonight’s game. He climbed atop the table, above her, his eyes level with hers, and for a moment stayed still and silent.

That seemed to frighten her; the suspense, her mind telling her wicked lies of what was to befall her.

Though Loki felt a little guilt about it, he did enjoy her fear. Fear was truer than lust, truer than loyalty. One could fall out of love, but never out of fear. If he could bring out that fear, but she remained obedient, that would be the truest expression of trust. _Complete trust in the God of Lies_ ; he had to stop himself from laughing.

The wait was almost too long, and her eyelids were beginning to flutter open.

“Now, now, Caitlyn. You must trust me.” He said slowly and softly, laying a kiss on her collarbone. “Forget all else. I am real. I am all that is real here. Everything that remains is a creation of your mind.” He summoned a small knife to his outstretched hand. “Now, you are going to be afraid, but I promise that you are safe.” He felt the weight of it in his hand, judged the sharpness of its edge. “Trust that I will not hurt you, and do not open your eyes.” He brought the blade closer, holding it before her to see if she would dare glance.

She jolted as he lay the cold metal against her belly, but her eyes stayed shut.

“Very good.” He whispered. He trailed the tip of the knife up her skin.

She breathed harder, and gasped with pain when it grazed her.

He quickly pressed his fingers to the nicked skin, healing it completely in less than a breath. “Hush, you are safe. There is no pain. There is no danger.” He had gotten rather carried away. He would have to be more careful with her mortal flesh. “Hush now. It is all in your mind. Your expectations, your fears, your sensations…are all heightened in the dark…are they not?” he asked, once again placing his head between her thighs, and allowing his tongue to loosen her tensed body. “Be calm.” He said, softly kissing her clit. “You are safe.”

She moaned again, the sound stifled but still beautiful.

Once he was sure she was calmed, he brought the knife to her again. He gently held her pinned arms above her head, and ran the tip of the blade down them. This time softer, only the lightest of touches. He didn’t want to risk breaking her skin again. This time he might not be able to get away with it. He ran the blade down her arm, across her collarbone, then slowly up her neck.

She was breathing more quickly, her heart quickening, but a hand between her thighs told him that she enjoyed something in it. Not only fear, but desire too. He could almost smell it on her. It was such a heady mix.

The blade danced across her neck, and for a brief flash he remembered hating her, wanting to hurt her, kill her even…but just as quickly as it had surfaced, the memory vanished. He let the knife slip beneath the silk gag, pressed flat against her cheek. “Do you trust me?” he asked once more.

With one fell stroke he cut open the gag, just in time to catch her breathless “Yes.”

He vanished the knife away, and kissed her deeply, his tongue invading the depths of her mouth. He should not bind that mouth again. He ran his hands through her hair, feeling it soft around his fingertips. “Please, open your eyes. Please.” He implored. “Please, tell me what you want.” Had it been too much? Had he scared her away? He felt a sudden pathetic need to be forgiven. Why? “Please, Caitlyn.”

She let her eyelids open slowly, staring back into his pleading gaze. “Oh, just fuck me already.” She replied.

Relief washed over him. He grinned. “Of course.”  
 

#### Part 2 – Conditions and Courtesy

The unusual weather patterns were a dead give-away. Even before Selvig and his team had phoned it in, Nick Fury was already aware that someone from Asgard had made it to Earth. Thing was, he was counting it only being one of Odin’s sons.

“Now, let me get this straight, so that even a drunk ass like Tony’s gonna understand…” Fury twitched. “You _lost_ …you motherfucking LOST war-criminal, master of disguise and TELEPORTER, Loki, God of Bad-Fucking-Mondays?”

“Mister Fury, be careful how you speak!” Thor bellowed. “I am a prince of Asgard, and he is my brother! I am here as a courtesy to your realm!” Thunderclaps broke outside the windows of the makeshift bunker.

“Yeah, some fucking courtesy.” Fury stood firm. “Do you not remember how many of my men; good, honest men, _and women_ , died to bring this motherfucker down the first time? And then you just fucking lost him?!” Fury hurled a chair against the wall, the plastic of the back-rest cracking on impact.

Thor stared out into the night, like he was trying to grasp every piece of a memory. “He slipped his bonds and attacked his guards, then vanished before our eyes. Nicholas Fury, this was not an act of failure on my part, I swear you that.” There was hurt in that blonde giant’s face. Even if it wasn’t his fault, didn’t mean he didn’t want it.

“Motherfucking unbreakable chains…” Fury shook his head. “Should have known better than to trust your stone-age technology…” he paced the four small walls. This room was like a little birdcage with the two of them some angry fighting roosters. At least they were only likely to break each other. The meeting had been private, as per Thor’s request.

“They were unbreakable!” Thor protested, fist held against his mouth.

“Then how did they get broken?!” Fury yelled in reply. He had to bring it up, even if the two of them didn’t want to face it. Even if it could destroy the bond between their worlds. He calmed his voice. “Now, if they really are as unbreakable as you say they are, that leaves one option; someone let Loki out.”

“I swear to you, I would never…!”

“Oh, sure, well I bet there’s more than one God up on Asgard who coulda done it instead.”

Thor glared. “Mister Fury, be careful what you say, for there is treason in such words!”

“I’m not talking treason, I’m talking mistakes. Now, we both know Loki’s a smart little shit when he wants to be, and he’s got mighty good at convincing people, even if he doesn’t need the brainwashing stick…”

“No.” Thor shook his head.

“Mistakes happen. Hell, we’ve all made mistakes when it comes to him, but I need to know what they are so that next time we don’t have this problem…”

“So you will help me, then?” Thor asked, extending his right hand. Fury noticed that the left looked different to normal, with some kind of gold glove wrapped around it.

“Yeah, suppose I’ll have to…” Fury mumbled, shaking the God’s hand.

“Just give me two Earth days to return him myself. I beg of you…” Thor pleaded.

Fury sighed, shaking his head.

“…no. He has not acted as before. It seems he is hiding, seeking refuge…Please, Mister Fury. Let me bring my brother home peacefully. If I cannot achieve this in two days… I will drive him into the ground myself.” The big blonde bastard was hurting, eyes threatening to water.

“…Alright, fine.” Fury replied, slipping out of the handshake. “But if he so much as threatens a dog, I’m sending the whole team in.”

“Do as you must.” Thor nodded, and turned to leave.

“One more thing, before you go. Any reason you can think that Loki might be interested in a hospital?”

“Hospital?” Thor shook his head. “No, I cannot think…Mister Fury, on Asgard it is beyond shameful to attack those who surrender and seek healing. He would never be interested in such things.”

“Right.” Fury shrugged. “Maybe it’s Doom or something.” He didn’t believe it. He never believed in co-incidences, but Thor wasn’t about to dish the dirt on his little brother. Whatever was happening, Loki hadn’t played his hand yet, and Fury wasn’t about to give anything away either. _Motherfucking Loki; he would be a pain in his ass until the day he died._  

 

#### Part 3 – Repose

Loki watched her sleep. How many times had he watched her in this way? He was struggling to keep count. There was something oddly comforting in it. He felt at peace…though perhaps that had more to do with the events of earlier. He smiled. Surely, although mortal, she was worthy of a place in his bed? She was all at once so simple, so fragile, and yet so precious to him. More than a plaything; something…something so intangible…

“I…” he spoke softly so as not to wake her. “I apologise.” His voice was little more than a breath, spoken for her rather than to her. “Against my firmest will, and apart from all my better judgement, I…” he ran his hand through her soft, rolling hair. “I like you.” He smiled, careful to stifle a laugh. “I like you.” He repeated, unable to believe it himself. He held his fist to his mouth, trying to contain the cacophony of emotions currently swirling within. He ran both hands over his hair. “Oh stars, what has befallen me?”

She rolled towards him in her sleep, her hand once again seeking out his form. He gave a broad grin, gritting his teeth against spilling all his secrets.

“So, would you have me for a God and Master? For a King?” he shook his head, tears of laughter brimming. “No, I think not!” he sniggered.

She barely stirred. He had clearly exhausted her.

“Perhaps something else then?” he carefully lifted her hand, kissing upon the skin of her wrist to remove the reddened marks left from her binding. He crouched to do the same for the other wrist, pausing at the bandage he had not noticed before. Had that been his doing? Then he would undo it. He kissed the broken skin beneath the bandage. _If only all wounds would heal similarly…_

He smiled, laying down beside her, placing her arm across him. Having her hold him close. This would have to suffice; a repose before the next fight. He must have been mad to think such strange thoughts…


	20. The Predator and the Prey

### Chapter 20 – The Predator and the Prey

#### Part 1 – To Tame

Caitlyn awoke with a start. It frightened her how cold the body next to her had become. With his eyes closed and his chest barely rising he looked hideously cadaverous. Then she realised what had woken her: that ice-cold hand that had drifted across her face…it was far too like the nightmares. She felt a sudden panic, a fear that she couldn’t quite place, as if something deep inside was screaming _‘Run! Run while you still can!’_ A voice that had been held silent until now, but no longer. She remembered the look in his eyes…something dark in it…she remembered the knife… _What’s happening to me?_

She tried to slip from beneath his grasp, but found him clutching her tightly. It was just like the nightmares, and she couldn’t…couldn’t breathe. _Need to get out. Need to get away…_

Then he opened his eyes, and all of it seemed to melt away. His hypnotic green eyes, that looked with such kindness, such adoration… “Are you alright?” he asked with concern.

“No. I mean, yes, I’m fine.” She lied. “I just…I just have to…”

He shifted, lying across her, holding himself little more than breathing distance above her. “Tell me what is wrong, Caitlyn.” He ordered softly.

“It’s nothing.” She forced a smile.

“Is this about last night?” he asked, stroking hair back from her face. He waited for an answer which she never gave. “I thought I made it clear; I want you to trust me.” He kissed her lips with such gentleness that all fears seemed out of place. “Do you trust me, Caitlyn?”

She thought, or tried to think; she tried to argue, but all she could conclude was: “Yes.”

He grinned hotly and kissed her deep, pressing his body against her. “Oh, you have no idea how much that pleases me…”

“Well, I think I do.” She retorted.

At that he smirked. “Ah. I suppose I am that obvious.”

“More than most.” She flirted in reply.

“Really?” he grinned, eyebrows raised. “Well, I don’t know whether to take that as a compliment or to wonder just how many others might be included in the comparison.”

There it was; that jealousy all men seemed to be tinged by. Each one liked to imagine the woman they fucked as a virgin. There were very few women who shared that affliction. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.” She replied.

“Now, that is a telling response.” He chided her. He pulled at her wrists, holding them gently above her head. “Oh, but I would have loved to fuck you when you were new.” He sighed in her ear. “So you would feel the sting for days.” He bit along the line of her jaw. “And every step would remind you of where I’d been. The pain, the ache of me…”

“You want to hurt me?” she asked.

“More than that. But yes…in every way…” he smiled as he watched her beneath him “…because I can.”

She shook her head. “You are such a liar.”

“A liar?” he grinned, releasing her wrists to instead run his fingers over her hair.

“If you wanted a virgin, I’m pretty sure you’d go out and fuck one.”

He paused a moment, considering it. “Well…yes. I would.”

“And if you wanted someone to get down on all fours and purr, you could probably manage that too.”

He smiled, bringing his lips back to her neck. “But, my dear, it is more fun to tame wild things.”

“And there’s the lie.” She smiled back at him, kicking him off her; something she clearly hadn’t the strength for, so he must have allowed it. “You don’t want to tame the wild things.”

He watched in stunned surprise as she walked away from him in nothing but her skin. “Where are you going?” was all he could ask.

Her hair danced across her shoulders as she turned to him. “Shower.”

“May I join you?” he grinned.

“No.” she replied curtly. “I’m trying to get clean.”  
 

#### Part 2 – Mine Alone

She had left him, and went to wash. Why was it that she insisted on bathing alone? He could prove such fine company, if she would only let him. Loki sighed. She truly was a wilful one. And perhaps she was right; perhaps he did not want her tame. Not truly tame, anyway. Not like those women who bowed and cooed and would share their bed with a different noble each night, depending on who summoned them. No. There was no joy left to be had in taking them. Whoever had broken their spirits had taken all the fun that was to be had.

He heard the sound of water running, and longed to be there; running his hands over her wet skin…pressing her against the cold stone wall…

Then she started to sing.

Once Loki heard the song he was helpless. It filled his head, it swam beneath his skin; an endless tide beating onward, onward, eternally onward. The music called deep, to his very soul. It was a sound he could not describe, for he had not the words. He pressed his face against the wood of the door, to be closer to the intoxicating sound. His fingers graced the thin panels, begging to be one with the music. This time, for the first time, there were words.

> “ _I know you can’t be impressed_  
>  Still I can’t leave you linger  
>  All I want’s to please you more  
>  I want you round my finger  
>  I need you round my finger
> 
> _Don’t bother educating me_  
>  If you like your angels dumb  
>  One way or any other dear  
>  I’ll harass you till you’re numb  
>  And if you’d like a girl like saint  
>  I will be your little nun  
>  One way or any other dear  
>  I’ll harass you till you’re numb 
> 
> _Na-na-numb_
> 
> _All I want’s to please you more…_ ”

As the song ceased his mind seemed to return in stages. He blinked and closed his mouth that had been left to hang open as he had pawed at the door. He regained control of his muscles, rising tall once more. But, there was one thing that had not left him, a lust that could not be abated. “Open this damn door.” He ordered, smiling.  
“I told you. I’m trying to get clean.” She replied, calling over the sound of falling water.

“Open it or I shall be forced to break it down!” He grinned.

The sound of water ceased, and slowly the door was unlocked. She stood before him; a beautiful slick creature, perfect for play. She drew such a wanton smile across those lips when she regarded him. He was glad he had decided to remain unclothed.

He pursued her. “Such strange prey…” he smiled, backing her against the wall, feeling her wet and heated flesh against him. “…that wishes to be caught.”

She smirked. “Such stupid prey…” she whispered to him as she dragged her nails across his back “…that thinks it’s the predator.”

That was too much for him to ignore. Without warning he entered her, pinning her against the wall with his body.

She let a gasp escape her, which quickly became a moan, a cry. “ _Ah!_ ”

To Hel with it. He would hurt her if he had to. She slid up the wall with every assault. The only thing that mattered was the ecstasy in it. Roughly. Fiercely. Over and over, he thrust into her hot core. He would own her. He would make her his.

She cried out, louder and louder. “Oh Fuck!” her body tightened around him “Fucking God!”

He ran a hand through her damp hair, forcing her head to him. He kissed her, his tongue claiming that perfect mouth. “ _I_ am your fucking God!” he growled. “Say it!” he tugged on her hair.

“You are my fucking God.” She replied, breathless.

His back arched, head raised skyward in that moment of exaltation, and held her there until they both grew still. He gently ran his teeth over her earlobe. “I am going to fuck you until you remember no-one else.” he vowed, clutching her to him. “Until you are mine alone.”

She did not make a reply, still shaken and breathing heavily.

“And now, I _will_ join you to wash.” He smiled, lifting her in his arms. “For it seems that in the cleansing you have become dirtied again.”

She would learn; one way or another, he always got what he desired.  
 

#### Part 3 – Agent Hill

Loki smiled to himself in the dark. This morning’s events had placed him in such an unusually good mood. What was exceptionally pleasing was that Caitlyn had been walking with some discomfort when he had spied on her. That had stroked his ego no end. Oh yes, she was something special, and he would ruin her…

His grin dissipated as the door opened, and he fell deathly silent. He was not one for waiting, but moments like this often served as their own reward.

The woman closed the door behind her, searching in the dark for the light-switch.

“Good evening, Agent Hill.” He said softly.

Her eyes drew wide and she dropped to the ground. “Loki!” she gasped “Please! Please don’t kill me!” she drew forth large crocodile tears, and tactically stretched her supposedly tremulous hands towards her concealed gun.

“Please. This display demeans us both.” He spoke with distain, stamping down on her wrist and hearing the bones crack.

She screamed with pain and dismay, as her weapon scattered across the floor.

“Now, let us try this again. I shall say _‘Good evening, Agent Hill’_ , and you shall reply _‘Good evening, Master Loki’_.” He sneered, lifting her to her feet by her shattered wrist. He curled his fingers around her neck, and held her against the wall, lifting her ever so slightly off the ground. “Good evening, Agent Hill.”

Her eyes were so large, like those of a startled doe. She didn’t speak, but she clawed at his hand. He decided to let her.

“Your superior met with my brother yesterday. What did they discuss?” Loki asked calmly, increasing the pressure upon her neck, then allowing her an opportunity to speak.

“I…don’t…know.” She gasped, pawing weakly at him.

“Really, do not try this with me.” He chided, her behaviour was verging on the irritating. “As a liar, you are out of your depth.” He loosened his grip a little, to give her more chance to breathe. “Do not force this pretence of fragile femininity; I know you as a soldier. Your untrue fear has no currency with me.” He summoned a knife to his free hand. “Now, you will answer me.” He let her watch the blade, holding it temptingly close to her wide eyes.

She regarded it with a clear, calm focus, assessing it by attributes and possible uses. All this, and yet no fear.

“You are impressive.” He smiled. “Most of your male counterparts are not so mechanical. It seems I must use other methods with you.” He slid the flat of the knife across her cheek.

To that she reacted strongly, eyes darting wildly, hands tearing at him. The pantomime of intimacy; indeed she feared that.

“Perhaps I should add you to my army?” he sneered “The men could always use a whore.” A time not too long ago he would have put himself in that threat, but even speaking it now seemed unnatural. _What was this change within him?_

“I’d rather die!” she hissed.

“Well, of course.” He rolled his eyes. “It is no decent threat if it is preferable to death.” This line of enquiry was getting him nowhere. “Perhaps…” he trailed off, hearing a mechanical tune coming from inside his coat. “One moment please.” He withdrew the phone, at the same time making to cut off almost all of her airway. “Well, this is a pleasant surprise.”

“ _Em, hi. It’s Cailtyn. You put your number in my phone._ ”

He grinned. “Yes I did. I am glad you decided to use it.”

“ _Yeah, ‘The Prince’. Very Machiavellian of you…_ ”

He chuckled at that; his own little joke.

“ _…well, I was wondering; if you and your ego aren’t too busy…_ ”

Agent Hill croaked out a guttural sound, arms and legs scrambling at the wall. Loki knocked her head against the concrete, only as a warning, but it did seem to daze her.

“ _…you might want to have dinner with me?_ ” there was a sweet nervousness as the words crossed her lips. Oh, how he would have like to have seen it.

“I would be delighted.” Loki replied, smiling. “I have a few matters to attend to first, but they shouldn’t take long.”

“ _Alright. Well, I guess as my stalker, you’ll find me._ ”

“You may count on that.” He smirked. “See you soon.” He ended the call, returning the phone to his pocket. So that was the draw of having one of those devices. He was beginning to see the appeal. “Well, as you can hear, I am on somewhat of a tight schedule. I would so have loved to give this the time and attention it deserves, but alas, we must cut to the quick.” He sighed, watching the woman struggling against him. “You will tell me all you know, Agent Hill. Before or after I control you; it matters not, but you will hear me, and you will fear me, and you shall not betray me.”

She remained still and silent, staring back at him. Determined as she was, not to react, she flinched slightly when the knife travelled down her neck.

With the knife he fished the locket she wore beneath her neckline, and gently sprung open the clasp. “You are so very close with your little niece…”

“You son of a bitch!” She hissed with what little air she had left.

“But she is a grown woman now…all of fifteen years…much older than one requires, really…” he shrugged off her disgusted stares, and continued in soft tones, his face a mimic of concern “Would you have her pay for your mistakes?”

There it was; a fear so great she could not feel the lie in it. Mortals were so willing to accept terrible threats from wicked Gods, whether they would come good or not.

“Do you think I am not capable of this? I assure you, I am.” He pressed the tip of the knife into the locket, marking a point just above the child’s heart. “If you would make me do this, then…”

She spoke without further provocation. “Thor wanted two days to find you, without the others knowing.” She screwed her eyes shut, not wanting the moment to be real. “This time tomorrow Director Fury’s going to unleash hell.”

Loki smiled, letting her drop to the floor. Her shame surrounded her like a thick fog, and she barely resisted as he took her will. “Hush. I am not so heartless as you seem to think. There will be no more suffering. Not as long as you obey.” He grasped her wrist, healing the shattered bone beneath his fingertips. “I promise you, your life will be so much better if you obey.”

Her eyes glowed with the sceptre’s power, and finally she smiled, content. “Good evening, Master Loki.” she said obediently.

“Good evening, Agent Hill.” He nodded as he left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, more creep-tacular Loki!
> 
> Comments and Kudos fuel the writing brain. :)
> 
> x Pinch


	21. What Harm?

### Chapter 21 – What Harm?

#### Part 1 – Thai

Caitlyn smiled. For a guy so serious and proper he was pretty hilarious sometimes.

“By the serpent’s chit!” he yelled at his chopsticks. “How do you work these blasted things?!”

She snorted a little as she tried, and failed, to suppress a laugh. “Wow, that’s some old-school insult you’re dishing out at the cutlery!” her pitch grew higher towards the end, and finally she burst into a fit of giggles.

Fortunately, this time he smiled along. “They deserved it.” he defended “They are thoroughly useless tools.”

“Well, when you use them like that, they are.” She repositioned his fingers. “Now, you keep the bottom one still, and move the other like a pencil…” she held his hand in shape “I can’t believe someone like you hasn’t used chopsticks before.”

“Someone like me?” he seemed a little thrown-off.

“You know; a cultural, high-brow…toff.” She didn’t dare look for his reaction. “I half expected you to have done a gap- _yah_ in Tibet or something.” She ate another bite of her Thai curry. “Soul-searching in Peru.”

He grinned, perplexed. “Oh, what do you think of me?” he falteringly brought his first mouthful to his lips, and his face instantly shone in amazement. “What is this food?!”

“It’s, uh, a Thai curry?” she replied, watching him react like a child who had just tasted chocolate for the first time. “I don’t really know what’s in it.”

“But this…this green…thing…?” he clearly didn’t have any frame of reference.

“Lime?” she asked, unsure if he was taking the piss.

He wolfed down another perilously grasped clump.

“I guess you like Thai food.” She stared. “Not got Thai back home?”

“No!” he laughed to himself, then clarified “I’m used to rather more traditional fare.”

“Meat and two veg? That’s kind of dull, isn’t it?”

“Yes, I suppose it is…” he was improving his chopstick technique in a very short space of time.

“Woah! No!” she held his hand still “Don’t eat that! That’s a chilli!”

He stared blankly back at her.

“You think lime had a kick? That chilli’s about to blow your freaking mind.”

“You ate one earlier.” He protested.

“Yeah, but I’ve been eating here for almost two years. You’ve just recently been introduced to the concept of ‘ _sour_ ’!”

He shook his head at her, dismissing her protestations to prove he was capable of eating a chilli. As he bit down his eyes began to water.

Fucking idiot.

He swallowed almost an entire glass of water, chasing down the burning acid.

“That’s funny.” She smirked “I thought you would have been used to a little pain.”

He eyed her hotly. “Speaking of which, how have you been feeling today? Not too sore, I hope.” He had that look; the one that said _‘I’m going to do what I want, and now I want you’_.

She blushed. “Fine, thank you.”

“Really?” his eyebrows were raised in mock surprise “I shall have to test that later.”

“Your commitment to science is truly inspiring.” She replied sardonically.

“If you take that tone again, I shall be forced to put you over my knee.” He warned with a mischievous grin. “To teach you some manners.”

“I think you’d do it anyway.” She shrugged “I don’t think it would be too far outside your area of expertise.”

“Oh, don’t tempt me, wicked woman.” He smiled, casually gazing around the room, undoubtedly judging whether he could get away with it. She hoped the conclusion was no.

She decided to change topic, and avoid imminent sexual punishment from this twisted pervert. “You know, I’ve never really done anything like this before…” she confessed.

He smirked. “Ah, now. You cannot go back on words already spoken, for I do believe I would know if I was…” 

She interrupted “No, not that. I mean, the whole…this.” She gestured around. “I’m…out of my depth when it comes to the whole ‘series of encounters’ thing.”

“Well, you seem to be coping admirably.” He laughed at her unease. “Caitlyn, I am not going anywhere, whether you would like it or not.”

“No, I’m beginning to sense that.” She sighed. “Is there…any reason in particular? Any at all?”

He shrugged. “None that I can think of.” His voice turned to a snigger. “Oh, please do cheer up! It is not so bad, is it?” his fingers reached out and stroked hers “Being mine?”

She guffawed. _‘Being mine’_. He had such a fucking ego. She wouldn’t, definitely wouldn’t just let him take her to bed tonight. Not again. Not this time.  
 

#### Part 2 – Know Better

“I swore I wasn’t going to let this happen again.” Caitlyn muttered as she removed her blouse.

Loki grinned, kissing her lips and pressing his body against hers. She still tasted of that delicious food.

“Mmm.” She hummed as his hands went to her breasts, kneading her flesh. The sound of glass shattering abruptly broke their embrace. “Shit!” she swore.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing. Just an old photo.” She sighed, picking it up off the floor. “Stand back, there’s glass everywhere.”

As though glass would harm him.

She bent low, sweeping with a short brush.

He stared at her. “Why are you doing that?”

“I don’t want to forget about it and get glass in my feet later.” She replied.

It was strange to see her performing such a menial task. He cocked his head. _That was what servants were for_. He turned his attention to the image behind the shattered glass. “Who is this?”

She poured the shards into thick paper, and wrapped them tight. “My sister.” She replied, taking the picture from him.

“You never told me you had a sister.” He mused, still studying it. True, there was some resemblance, but not a great likeness.

“Well, I don’t even know your last name, so that seems fair to me.” She shrugged.

He chose his words with caution, avoiding her eyes. “Perhaps, I might like to know you better.”

“For fuck’s sake.” She groaned. “Fine. Yes I knew my father. No I didn’t grow up in a broken home. Yes I have always been this fucked up. No I don’t know why.” She seemed to have an endless list. “I have never been assaulted, abused or in any other way fucked-over. And there’s no great hatred between me and my sister, we just don’t get along.” Her voice had raised in irritation, but with more than that behind it. He could see that; although she was trying to tell him to stop, she desperately wanted someone to confide in.

He paused, giving her space to breathe, although his patience was becoming increasingly strained as he looked at her in her state of undress. “I’d like to hear about it, if you would be willing to tell.”

“There’s not much to tell, really.” She sighed. “I had a friend. He had a huge crush on her, and she knew it. She loved it.”

“And, did you love him?” he tried to sound detached, but some of the vitriol crept in.

“No, you jealous freak.” She rolled her eyes. “We were just good friends. Anyway, she broke his heart the second someone better came along. And then the next time, and the next, and…you get the picture. She lives with some photographer now, she’s ‘ _his muse_ ’. And, I mean, I’d forgive her all that if she actually cared about any of them. I mean, maybe that’s too harsh, but…she doesn’t.” She shook her head, hands tense. “She’s never loved any of them back. I watched her fall in love with being worshipped, and so I fell in love with being alone.” She glanced to him, to see his reaction.

He shook it off and smiled warmly. “Alone? Then why am I here?”

“For my sins.” She smirked. “Sorry. I am unflinchingly honest: one of my many annoying character traits. You have any deep dark secrets you want to spill?”

Loki paused. _He wanted to. He had to. Time was running short, and soon it would be too late._ “Tomorrow.”

_Just one more night._

_Once more, like this._

_Before everything has to end._

“What, tomorrow?”

“I’ll take you away from here. I’ll tell you everything.” He kissed the palm of her hand. “But not tonight.”

“Wow. That bad, huh?” she stroked along his jaw, fingers caressing his neck, grasping his hair. “You’d better make tonight count.”

What a cruel woman, to toy with him so. “Well…” He grabbed her wrists. “I believe I was to teach a lying harlot some manners.” He pulled her over his shoulder, and headed for her bedroom.

She struggled against him, cursing him, but he knew she craved it. They all craved subjugation, so long as it was delivered by a fair hand.

And he was only too willing to deliver it.

“Now,” he began, pinning her down on the bed, her front pressed against the mattress. “The first lesson should be an appreciation of place.” He pulled a small cord out of the air, and tied her thumbs together. With a second he bound her first toes. “For instance; it is not your place to lie to your lover about such involved acts and their consequences.” He smiled to watch her squirm, trying to unhook the bonds. “For this you must be punished.”

He knew the darkness in his comments was showing through; she didn’t dare sound a protest.

“Pain for pain, don’t you think?” he asked her bound form, sliding his hand up her leg. “You assured me that I had not left you in discomfort. I think I should test that.” He slid her underwear aside and roughly thrust two fingers inside her. She felt delicious.

She winced and sighed at once.

“Again?” he asked coolly, ignoring her response and acting anyway.

“Ah!” she cried.

“Again?” He repeated, not allowing her objections to come to anything. Another push, this time with three fingers inside.

Her unmasked cries were driving him wild. He desperately wanted to be deeply inside her.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, bending her backside up towards him. “Tell me, Caitlyn. Did I hurt you when I fucked you?”

She cried out with his latest, most forceful attack. “Yes!”

“And did you like it?” he asked, opening his belt.

“Yes!” she groaned as he entered her.

“Because…you are _mine_.” He loved the feel of her, the way her body responded to his every movement. “You will not lie to me.” He bent her forward, hair cascading, and he breathed onto the back of her neck. “You belong to me. If only in this moment, you belong to me.”

She fell flat beneath him, her thumbs and toes bound and preventing her from rising. He turned her on the bed, so that she faced a long mirror.

“Look!” he commanded, pulling on her hair to raise her head. He bit her shoulder to bring her back from the brink. “Look.”

She did as he ordered, watching herself coming undone by him.

“You are mine.” He told her, looking her reflection in the eyes. “That is all that matters.”

Her body was growing weak, pulsing around him. In less than a whisper, she answered. “Yours.”

That sweet word was enough. He kissed her on her bruised shoulder, healing what he had hurt, as he felt himself empty. Instead of grasping, he stroked her hair, the both of them collapsing onto the bed.

She was warm and glistening with sweat. He could have lain there forever, but he wanted to see her face.

“I have one more question, about your sister.” He said, turning over and pulling her across his chest.

“Go ahead.” She sighed, eyes closed.

He asked what had been nagging at some remote corner of his mind. “How do you know that she did not love them? Those men.”

“Well, whenever she was away from them, she was looking for new ones. Plus she was always so _poised_ around them.”

“Poised?” he asked.

“You ever let down your guard in front of someone, completely by accident, act goofy, and realise you don’t even care? You’re happy just to make them smile. That’s love, you idiot.” Her speech turned to a slur as she drifted into sleep.

Not for the first time, Loki was stunned by her. _Love? Was this love?_ He had expected something much grander and more forceful. This thing had slowly crept in, and taken deep roots without him even realising. Not taken in victorious battle, but merely a thief in the night. He had counted it only as obsession, but perhaps there was more to it. To see her made him smile. _He no longer even thought of her as one of them._

He brought his hand to his speechless lips, as though afraid the secrets might spill out. _If this was love, love be damned._ No. It wasn’t. It couldn’t be. He was just becoming accustomed to her presence…fond as one might be of any diversion…it didn’t mean anything. That was it, and that alone; little more than another fleeting whim of the God of Lies.

Still…perhaps for one night, he could act as though it were so. A game. Where was the harm in that?

He smiled as he held her close, kissing her fingertips. He felt the softness of her hair brush against his chest as she shifted. He felt the warmth of her flesh…every part of her. He listened to her deepening breaths, felt her chest sigh upon his. He ran his fingers through her hair and thought of sweet things…of difference.

What harm was there in that?  
 

#### Part 3 – Unasked Questions

Frigga cast forth the runes, hoping to connect with that voice which had spoken so clearly before. “Please.” She begged. “Tell me how to undo the damage.” Her voice was in whispers, careful not to be discovered. “Let me reverse this. There must be some…some way.” She shook.

The cold unseen force spun through the room, twisting and binding the runes as she cast them. That distant reply had returned once again…

The runes fell with a piercing clarity, cutting her to the soul.

_‘No.’_

She felt tears brimming. “Please!” she closed her eyes, and as ever since the vision, she saw Loki, bloodied and full of hate. “Please! Whomever I speak to, you must have compassion! I cannot live with this destiny! I cannot let this become truth!” She cast the runes again, hoping against hope for mercy.

The runes clattered down, scattering out with shuddering force.

_‘Too late.’_

“No!” she cried, her magic shaking the table beneath her. A single tear trickled down her cheek. “Who are you, to be so without heart?!”

She cast the runes in anger. This time they hovered in the air before her eyes.

“No.” she whispered, fear clutching her bones. _No._

There they spun before her. Her answer to the question she should have asked long ago. The question that should have been asked through all her desperation. Who would help a traitor? Who would tell of such forbidden magics?

_‘Hel.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh, foreshadowing!
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are very much appreciated. :)
> 
> x Pinch


	22. Everything Ends

### Chapter 22 – Everything Ends

#### Part 1 – Importance

It had been an intense battle of wills, but at last it was coming to an end. Tony Stark stared at his cell phone with intense concentration. He finally felt sober enough to make that call.

Sure, he probably should have tried it about five days ago…hell, he should have done it as soon as Pep had stormed away. But she had been mad, and he had too. The more recent delay was much more his own fault. He knew he shouldn’t call when he was still drunk, and if there was anything Tony shouldn’t do, it was give himself an excuse to stay drunk. The last few days were a groaning blur of booze, pills and regret.

“I’m sorry…” he tried it out, clearing his throat a little. “Hey Pep, I’m real sorry…I’m sorry you can’t understand what I… No! Dammit Tony!” he cursed himself, bringing his fist down on the table and immediately regretting it. “Shit! Motherfucker!” he jumped to his feet, shaking his hand vigorously.

Why hadn’t Bruce told him anything useful? It was all well and good for him to get his Doctor kick on, but why didn’t he care about _Tony’s_ life? The best damn thing in the world was about to slip through his fingers, and…hang on… “Pep, you’re the best damn thing in the world, and I can’t let you just…” he practiced, pacing the room.

Just then his phone buzzed into life. The caller ID read: Bruce.

“Tony Stark, you kill ‘em, we grill ‘em.” He answered.

“ _Hi Tony, it’s Bruce…_ ” the hesitant voice spoke.

“You hiding in a wardrobe?” Tony smirked. “What’s up, bud?”

“ _Tony, I need to tell you something, something important, and I…_ ” he whispered.

“Say no more.” Tony replied. “Hey, Jarvis? Can we secure this call?”

“ _Secure against who, sir?_ ” his phone asked.

Tony paused. “Everybody. Delete conversation as soon as you’ve heard it.”

“ _Understood, sir._ ” Jarvis answered “ _Conversation secured._ ”

“Right, Doctor Jekyll, fire away.”

Banner stumbled. “ _I…uh…there’s something…are you sure this conversation is secure?_ ”

“Yes! Did you not just…? Come on, spit it out!”

“ _Tony, I think I’ve found something, and I can’t let…_ ”

“What?” Tony asked. His phone abruptly cut him off with a beep. “Oh shit, that’s Pep. Bruce, I…”

“ _I understand. It can wait._ ” He seemed relieved, if anything.

“Bruce, I’m sorry. I promise I’ll get right back to you.” God dammit, why did timing never go his way? “Pep?”

“ _Hi Tony._ ” She spoke calmly. That was a real bad sign.

“Pep, honey, just let me say something, and I think…I know…you need to let me…”

“ _Tony, I don’t need to let you do anything._ ” She sighed.

“No, no no no, Pep, honey, please! I’m sorry. I didn’t know how much it meant to you, and I…I’ve been trying to tell you how much you mean to me, and I…” he stumbled. This had all gone a lot better in his head.

“ _Tony, I’ve seen the TV. I know just how much I mean, and it’s not half as much as being Tony Stark means to you._ ”

“No, Pep. I…” he found himself stuck, unable to speak. He settled for a lie. “Shield’s got me doing some real important stuff right now, and I…”

“ _Goodbye, Tony._ ” She said, her voice breaking slightly.

“Pep?” he asked the silence on the other end. “Damn, fucking shit!” he swore, tossing his phone at the fireplace and hearing it shatter. “Shit.” 

 

#### Part 2 – Focus

Banner sighed as the call hung up. Either something had gone very well, or very badly for Tony. He hoped for the former, but he expected the latter. What was he really going to say, anyway? _I nearly hulked-out, but I’m about twenty-percent-sure that Doctor Black stopped me?_ He still had no idea what was going on. Whether it was really her, whether she knew what had happened…that seemed unlikely, but still, he could never be too cautious.

But she didn’t seem too bad. Really, she was about the nicest person who’d spent more than ten minutes talking to him since he got there. And the kids all seemed to like her, in that slightly irritated way that kids seemed to reluctantly approve of authority figures. But he couldn’t let that distract him. There were things that just didn’t fit. Like the way the sensors seemed to keep going off around her, and even that cut that had mysteriously vanished from her hand.

Of course he hadn’t told Nick Fury about any of it. He couldn’t risk it. Not when someone might be able to control his worse half. He had hoped she might confess how she did it, that he might be able to learn, that maybe he could control the beast, for good. He knew it was foolish to hope, but maybe, just maybe, he might be able to fix everything.

His sensors went off in the corridor next to him, and he found her there, filling in a chart. This was as good a time as any… but he didn’t exactly know how to frame the conversation. “So, uh, did you meet someone last night?”

“Yeah…” she looked shifty “…just a friend.” She absent-mindedly stroked across her thumb.

“Caitlyn, there’s something I was meaning to talk to you about…” Dr Banner mumbled. “I, uh…”

Her pager started screaming. “Sorry, Dr Banner. Can it wait?”

“Yeah, uh, sure.” He nodded, looking a little relieved. “Sure, it can wait!” he shouted as she vanished down the corridor. “Yeah…” he sighed to himself.

“You know, Doctor Banner…” Dr Holly, as ever, seemed to have appeared out of thin air, or perhaps a small cupboard. Stored for such an opportunity. “If love never danced with us, death might find us more willing.”

“That’s not…I mean, I don’t…” Banner tried to clarify.

Dr Holly tapped the side of his nose knowingly, and edged away round the corner.

“I don’t…” Banner stumbled.

Why did no-one ever let him finish a sentence? He tried Tony’s phone again, but found no answer. He sighed, and went back to chasing never-ending sensor blips. There was another strange thing about the readings: the energy signature. It almost matched one they had seen before, almost exactly a year ago…

He went back to his little lab, and played with Tony’s computer equipment, grasping desperately at…nothing. It was no good. He wasn’t focused. He removed his glasses and rubbed his brow, trying to bring everything together. It didn’t make any sense. It was like the most important clue was staring him right in the face, but he just couldn’t see it.

He stared for what might have been minutes, or might have been hours, he couldn’t really differentiate at this point. He was abruptly woken from his trance-like state by a sensor alarm: Gamma readings, picked up in the lobby.

He didn’t know what he was hoping for, but what met him was a face he had hoped never to see again. 

 

#### Part 3 – Fun and Games

“Hello again, Dr Banner.” Loki grinned. “Oh please, don’t leave on my account.” he menaced, walking between Banner and any hopes of escape. He looked perhaps a little less pale than before, and he wasn’t wearing his armour, but that smile was just as unhinged as ever.

It was too crowded, he couldn’t risk anything here. “Loki. I thought we shipped you off to some Asgard prison.” Banner answered, taking the seat indicated by his enemy.

“Oh, come now. I expected better of you than to think I could be stopped by mere chains. Not when there are worlds left to conquer.” Loki sat on the same bench, only half a foot between them.

“Earth won’t be conquered, not by you or your army. You saw what happened last time.” Banner spoke calmly, head down, trying not to draw focus. He knew what might happen if he did.

“Last time?!” Loki laughed cruelly. “You think that…?!” he gasped between sniggers “Oh, my, Doctor Banner!” He had to steady himself as his body contorted from the hilarity. “That was a scout-ship!”

Banner faltered, his breath catching. _If that was true, then…_ “We…we’re going to stop you, just like we did before, you genocidal bastard.” _…then Earth didn’t stand a chance._ He subconsciously curled his hand into a fist.

“Careful, Doctor Banner! Mind your temper!” Loki laughed. “These walls are not so strong or so well placed for a battle between beast and God. Oh, think of the little lives lost. Surely one of Earth’s mightiest protectors would not want that on his conscience?” He was toying with him. Reminding him how powerless he was.

Banner finally looked at the god, and stared in revulsion. “You’re sick.”

Loki’s green eyes twinkled. “No, Dr Banner, sick would be having a small amount of explosive installed in fake security cameras throughout the building, for instance; much like that one over there…” he indicated leisurely. “Or perhaps over there…” he positioned himself so to surreptitiously glance over. “Tell me, _doctor_ , do you think I’m that sick?” He grinned, leaning lazily back.

Banner answered without hesitation. “Yes.”

“Oh, I appreciate your honesty, but I am afraid I’m not; I am so far beyond such things…” he inched closer, uncomfortably close. Close enough to snap Banner’s neck. “Do you enjoy games, Dr Banner? Games to test your wits and skill; where the stakes are life and death? Not ours, obviously, as neither of us can die, but there are oh so many to choose from.”

“Why?” _Because he wants to prove he’s better_.

“Oh, because I can, Dr Banner.” He grinned. “Because I can.” He withdrew a small device from within his pocket. “Do you know what this is?”

Banner’s blood ran cold. “A detonator.”

“Very good, Dr Banner. Now, in sixty seconds, I will give this to someone you choose from the crowd, and we shall see what happens.”

He really was mad enough to go through with it, just to prove a point. Hell, he hadn’t even disguised himself. He wanted to be found. He wanted Banner to know just how badly he had failed. “Who? Who am I supposed to choose?” Banner watched the throngs of people passing before him: families, children, hospital staff. He realised he didn’t know anything about any of them.

Loki shrugged. “Anyone you like, Dr Banner. It could be that security guard in the corner, or your shield agent poorly disguised as a technician, or perhaps the surgeon who, in the seven hours and twenty eight minutes you have been here today has not let you out of his sight.” He grinned wildly. “Come on Dr Banner. Forty seconds.” He watched Banner’s darting eyes and laughed. “Is this not fun? Wondering who is mine, and who is yours? Those people you so passionately distance yourself from: can you tell where their allegiance lies? Who can you trust?” There it was: the true message. _You can’t trust anyone. You are alone. You will always be alone. I will make sure you stay alone._

Banner stammered “I…I’m not going to choose. You’ll just do whatever you want anyway.”

“But, Dr Banner, there’s no fun in it if you don’t join in! Come on. What harm is there in amusing the man with the trigger?” Loki glanced at his watch. “Fifteen seconds.”

He didn’t want to play Loki’s game, but he wasn’t going to risk it. It wasn’t right. He couldn’t gamble with their lives. “Her.” Banner pointed.

“You are sure?” Loki raised a sceptic eyebrow.

“Yes. Her.” Banner repeated, holding his trembling hands together.

Loki rose from his seat, and shrugged, then turned to a victorious smile. “Hello Caitlyn.” He beamed, handing her the small device.

“I don’t know what this is.” She returned it to him without a thought. “How do you know Dr Banner?”

_Did she know? Had she known this whole time? No. It couldn’t be. She wouldn’t…how do you know, Bruce?_

_No. Don’t let him get inside your head._

“That is not important.” Loki tossed the detonator to a waiting security man, who caught it expertly. “We are merely acquaintances, long overdue a reunion.”

“Small world.” Dr Banner replied, aware that he was being watched intently by the same security man.

“Dr Banner? Are you alright?” Caitlyn asked.

“No. I’m fine. What about you? Are you alright?” he asked with concern. _What has he done to you?_

“I’m fine.” She smiled as Loki’s hand wrapped around her waist. “But apparently I have to go now. Good night!”

“It was good to see you again, Dr Banner.” Loki smiled pleasantly. “I promise to keep in closer touch.”

“You really don’t have to. I’ll find you.” Banner replied firmly. _I’ll move Hell and Earth to bring you down._  
 

#### Part 4 – One Last Kiss

“Are you going to tell me why we’re standing in the middle of a fucking field?” Caitlyn asked. She had been quiet most of the journey there, but it seemed her patience would last no longer. With the sun setting behind her, she seemed the utmost vision of beauty.

“I…” Loki didn’t really know where to begin. “I thought you ought to know…more about me. So things might make sense, later…”

“John, it’s ok. You can tell me!” she laughed “Don’t look so serious.” Her smile, damn her smile.

He shook his head, and felt a lump rise in his throat. “I…I do not wish this…I wish things had been different. I wish…”

And she kissed him. He felt his heart race and his skin almost burn from the feel of it. His fingers ran through her hair, and he closed his eyes so to try to capture the moment. To keep it with him forever. She pulled away, just enough to be able to speak. “John. I know. Everything ends.” There was a sadness in it she would never admit, but he could hear it. He knew he could hear it.

“No. That is not what I want…” he sighed, holding her tight one last time. One last kiss.

_Oh, there was so much harm in one last kiss._

“This place is important…” he began, releasing her. “I have been here before.” He walked over to one of the loose stones, and lifted it in his hand. “A long time ago.” He let his magic seep deep into the stone, awakening ancient memories. “Around a thousand years, to be precise.”

“Oh.” She responded, staring incredulously. “So, you’re… _a vampire_ then?” she nodded calmly, while reaching for her phone, which had taken from her.

“I am not mad, Caitlyn.” He stated, rolling his eyes.

“Well, at least one of us is.” She replied, backing away slightly. “And I’m betting you have a worse track-record.”

“I am not mad, and I have been here, a thousand years ago, because…” he fought the urge to avoid her gaze, to turn away, and instead looked her straight in the eye “I am a God.”

At first she was silent, trying to take it in. Then she began to snigger.

“I am Loki, of Asgard.”

The impudent woman actually laughed out loud. “Right!”

“I am serious.” He scowled.

“Oh, I know you are!” she gasped in between giggles.

He grasped her wrist. “Caitlyn. We do not have time for this.”

“No? You got somewhere else you need to be for the next thousand years?!” her eyes watered.

“Listen to me!” he commanded. “My brother will be here soon, and…”

She cut him off. “What, is he Jesus? No, the Easter Bunny?!”

“Caitlyn!” he yelled. That seemed to frighten her. He dropped the rock from his hand, and summoned the energies from within. Before them he conjured the illusion; the small settlement from a thousand years ago, and the native peoples who came to worship the Gods of Asgard.

“What the hell?” she gasped.

The ghost of his younger self spun some form of flying creature, made of blue light, and the children watched in amazement. She stared too, seeing the little sorcerer work simple magics. Frigga placed her hand on the child’s shoulder. There was warmth, kindness in her eyes…No. It was too painful to watch. He shook away the illusion, letting it flicker and fade.

“How did you?” her mouth hung open.

“Caitlyn, I do not have time.” He wished he did. He wished he had all the time of the stars. He brought her face to his. “Look at me. I need you to listen to me, and I need you to trust me.” Thunder clapped overhead. “They will tell you lies about me. They will try to turn you against me, but remember this…” He kissed her lips, sinking into that warmth, _that place that felt like home…_ “Remember who you know me to be.”

Another thunderclap; this time not only in his head.

“I will find you.” He vowed, before disappearing into the dark. 

 

#### Part 5 – Janners’ Tales

Caitlyn entered the pub, still shaken, and sat on a barstool.

“Alright my luvver? We’re ‘bout to close up.” The grey-haired barman stated in a West-Country accent. “But you look like you could use somethin’.” He cleaned a glass with a tea-towel.

“Whisky, please.”

“Right you are.” He poured the amber liquid, while watching the TV screen. “Looks like you, don’t it?”

“It is me.” She stared, watching her own face on the news report.

_Dr Caitlyn Black. Witness, suspected hostage. Any sightings, please contact this number._

“Is that right, doc?” he asked, putting the glass down in front of her. “You don’t mind if I call ‘em up?”

“Go ahead. Might as well.”

“Right you are. I’ll leave you with the bottle.” He smiled warmly, putting it beside the glass.

She necked the drink as she watched him dial. Maybe it wasn’t a brain tumour after all, but how could this really be happening?

“Alright? ‘Ello there. I think I’ve found your doctor in my pub.” He smiled. “No. A bit shakey, but nothin’ a drink won’t see to.”

She nodded, pouring herself another. It was going to take a hell of a lot more whisky to make teleporting gods something that was ok.

“No, just her.” He spoke gently. “The big fellar with the hammer? No, ‘ee buggered off as quick as he come.”

That was right. Thor, god of thunder. Totally normal to have the God of Thunder fall out of the sky, then zip away after your Norse deity not-boyfriend.

“No, I didn’t see no others. How many more d’ you need?” he laughed. “Young man, I’ve seen fair sight stranger in my time!”

She drank slower, the pleasant heat from the drink spreading through her body.

“Aww, there’s no reason for that! She’s not going anywhere, are you doc?” he asked.

She shook her head. Where would she go? What the hell would she do?

“No. Anyway, it’s my pub.” He gave them the address, having to repeat portions several times due to interference of the accent. “No, ee, fer apple.” He smiled. He was obviously used to this. “Alright my luvver? Take care.” He hung up the phone.

“Before you ask, I have no idea what’s going on.” She said, staring into the glass bottle.

“That’s alright, luv.” He smiled. “Sometimes strange things happen we weren’t expectin’. No sense frettin’ about.”

“Even if the guy you were seeing just told you he was the Norse equivalent of Satan, then used magic to teleport away?” she asked, waiting for the words to sink in.

“I’ll admit that’s a fair stretch outside what I seen before.” He smiled. “But they say some strange things go on in the land of Stonehenge.”

“Huh…” She sighed in exhaustion.

“That young man said they’d be by to see you in about twenty minutes, and I wasn’t to tell you nor anyone else. But, my pub, my rules.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem, doc.” He continued wiping down the bar.

She drained the glass and re-poured. “You said you’d seen ‘ _a fair sight stranger_ ’. What could that possibly be?”

“Oh, right.” He smiled, reminiscent. “Well, we ‘ave those druids who come by. They’re a funny lot, but they never caused much trouble. Never killed no goats or such that the tv seems to blame ‘em for.” He turned down the volume on the tv, which was still reporting her absence. “But stranger than all that, when I was a little boy, one night I went out walkin’ not too far from where you come…”

She braced herself for a very long story.

“It was dark that night, right enough there were stars, but no moon to be seen. I’d been out late, playin’ with my chums, and I lost track of time. I’d been out like that before, but that night it seemed that even the air were different. ‘Appen it could been nothin’, but I could swear to you now, that when I looked up at the sky, the stars weren’t no stars I ever seen, not now nor since. It seemed like I’d been taken out of place. But I didn’t dally none, I had to get ‘ome before my mum got out the slipper. Then, just as I was climbin’ down the side of that wall out there, that’s when it happened…

“Out of the night I saw this gurt big fellar. None like I ever seen before. A good seven or eight foot tall ‘ee was; lookin’ like ‘ee wouldn’t even fit ‘is own skin. I didn’t look at ‘im long before ‘ee said to me, just as I tell thee now: ‘ _Boy. When is it?_ ’ So I turns to ‘im, and I tells ‘im, and no word of a lie, he says ‘ _No, boy. What year?_ ’ I don’t want to be rude, so, I tells ‘im the year.

“An that’s when I sees it; by the light that glows by the village I sees his skin…An it’s green, all covered in scales an’ such, like in one of the ol’ Janners’ tales. ‘Ee sees me starin’ and ‘ee turns to me, ‘is eyes like yellow slits, and then…up above, there shines the brightest light…and away ‘ee goes. Up into the night. Like some might calls ‘alien’.”

 _Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh._ “Wow.” was all she could say.

“So I thoughts to myself, I’m no goin far, because one day, maybe one of ‘is sort might be comin’ back. So I keep in my pub, keepin’ watch over those ‘ills, and those walls, because I know ‘ee’s out there, waitin’ for somethin’, and I’m gonna be there when ‘ee comes.”

 _Why do I find all the crazy people?_ “That’s quite a story.”

He laughed. “I don’ blame thee, none roun’ ‘ere believe me neither.” He slung the cloth over the end of the bar. “Best of luck to ye’ Doc.”

“Yeah.” was all she could think to reply.

_Remember yesterday, when everything wasn’t crazy? When you thought; maybe, just maybe he’s married or something?_

_No? Neither do I._

_…and he left me in a fucking field._


	23. Watching, Waiting

### Chapter 23 – Watching, Waiting

 

#### Part 1 – Interrogation

During the helicopter ride she had been pleasantly numb. The whisky had taken care of that. She didn’t ask where she was going. She didn’t want to think about it. She was still trying to work everything out. Hell, it wasn’t every day you found out everything you thought you knew was wrong. That deserved a toast.

Unfortunately they had sat her in that tiny, dark room until she had sobered up. No doubt watching her sit and go over all of it in her head. She remembered things she had missed before. The way he had acted, the words he had chosen. 

_‘I am your God.’_

How could she have been so stupid? He had even told her when they had first met.

_‘Loki of Asgard. Burdened with glorious purpose.’_

Well, that was all well and good, but why did it involve fucking up her life?

_‘I just want the chance…to fuck you up.’_

Yeah, well, mission accomplished.

They set a computer screen down in front of her, then let the records play. It chilled her deep when she saw him; _Loki_ , beating, torturing, killing…There was no mistaking him; he had a look on his face that she’d seen before in glimpses, that at first was exciting, but now…The security footage showed him plunging a weapon into a man’s eye, and…

She vomited violently into a waste bin. Tears brimmed across her eyelids, and she gasped for breath.

_‘They will try to turn you against me.’_

_No shit._ “I get it, alright?!” she shouted into the dark room. She shook as she heard the recorded screams. One glimpse caught the stillness of the dead man, and she heaved again.

Director Nick Fury entered the room, bringing people who took the screen away, and he sat and waited for her to return to the table. Thankfully they took the bin as well, and gave her a small cup of water. She sat and took it in.

“Why you, doctor?” Fury asked with abnormal calm.

“I don’t know.” She replied. “I honestly don’t.” 

“There must be some reason.”

“You’d have to ask him.” She shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe he likes a D cup?”

Fury cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Have you received any hand-to-hand combat training?”

“No.”

“Small firearms?”

“No.”

“Ranged artillery?”

“No.”

“Weapons assembly?”

“No.” she sighed.

“Explosives manufacture?”

“No.”

“Chemical poisons?”

“No.” she suddenly broke the pattern “Oh, yes.”

“What?” Fury started.

“I’m a doctor, remember? Do you know how many glowsticks a five year old can eat before they get poisoning? I’ll give you a clue: It’s less than three.” She sighed. “Do you want to just give me the list, so that I can confirm I am a person of absolutely no strategic value? Or do you want to keep up this charade?” She was exhausted, from work and drink and vomiting her guts out…and _Loki_. She shuddered.

Fury ill-contained his irritation. “I need you to tell me everything you know, Dr Black, so I can stop this god-damn psychopath!”

“He’s not a psychopath.” She muttered.

“What was that?! Are you trying to _defend_ him?!” Fury shouted, arteries on his forehead pulsating.

“No.” she stated firmly. “I am NOT trying to defend…I’m saying he’s not a psychopath. He just isn’t. A psychopath is a distinct clinical picture, and it’s not him. He’s no more a psychopath than I am a…a cat.” She calmed her speech and collected her thoughts. _Medicalise it, explain it, detach._ “Psychopaths have a fundamental disconnect with the emotions of others; a profound lack of empathy and emotional depth. That’s not what… _Loki_ is. Malignant narcissist, probably; Sadist, possibly; but he is not a psychopath.”

“What? What’s the god-damn difference?”

“Psychopaths, they’re your murderers, your rapists. Malignant narcissists, they’re more along Mussolini lines.” She looked in his one functioning eye. “Psychopaths don’t want to stop. Narcissists will not let themselves be stopped. They want to win, and more importantly, they want you to know it.” She shrugged. “At least that’s my understanding of it.”

The speaker system buzzed, _“She’s right.”_

 _Thank you speaker voice._ Caitlyn smiled faintly. _I didn’t get my medical degree off the back of a cereal box._

“Narcissist, psychopath, I don’t give a damn. But Dr Black, if you ever, and I mean EVER want to get out of here, you better damn well answer my questions in a way I find satisfactory. You got that?”

“Yes. Sir.” She replied in a manner she used around the more arrogant surgeons.

“That’s better.” Fury shifted in his seat. “What is Loki’s plan?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. World domination, I would assume.”

_‘I will find you.’_

“I want details.” Fury tapped the table impatiently. As though she needed a reminder that time was ticking away.

“I don’t have them. John… _Loki_ ,” she corrected herself. _Remember what he is._ “He didn’t tell me anything about it.”

“What did he tell you?”

“Nothing. Not about any of that.”

_‘You belong to me. If only in this moment, you belong to me.’_

Fury stared quizzically. “You expect me to believe that? Loki doesn’t do friendly chit-chat.”

She shrugged. “Maybe not with you.”

“I am giving you the opportunity to tell me what you know, before I have to lock you up!” He was exasperated. Both of them were.

“Mr Fury. If I knew any of your answers, I promise I would tell you. I have no idea why he ‘chose’ me, or what his plans are. Believe me: I want to help you, but I don’t know how. I told you where he was. I told you everything I know. I don’t know how else I can…”

 _“Where did you meet him?”_ the speaker voice asked.

“I…” she searched back in the depths of her memory “I bumped into him on the train.”

“The train! The goddamn train!” Fury shouted, storming out of the room. “I want the stations, I want everyone who was on that train!”

_What have you gotten yourself into this time, Caitlyn? What have you done?_

   


#### Part 2 – Paranoid

Tony turned to the others across the boardroom table. “What do you think?” he asked the Cap.

“I think she’s telling the truth.” Steve replied with his innocent just-off-the-farm stare.

 _“I agree.”_ Natasha stated through the videolink.

“You gonna throw any weight behind that, or are we just gonna take your word for it?” Tony asked, rolling his chair back from the table and tapping on one of the screens behind him with a stylus.

_“She’s either telling the truth, or she’s better at this than I am.”_

Captain Steve turned to Stark and muttered conspiratorially “Don’t you think that she looks a bit like…?”

“Trust me Cap, you do _not_ wanna go there.” Tony interrupted. “It’s not a happy place with rainbows and kittens.”

“But the hair…” Steve persisted.

“Nope, don’t think about it.”

Steve straightened in his seat, before leaning back in “Do you think Loki…?”

“Steve, honest to god, I am about three seconds away from jabbing this pen into my brain so I don’t have to hear the rest of that sentence!” Stark warned, brandishing the stylus. It was easier to say pen to Steve, explaining everything would take a couple of hours.

Steve held up his hands “I’m just saying…”

“Just don’t. Hmkay?” He snapped. “Well unlike you guys, I’m not buying the whole ‘Good Doctor’ act. You do _remember_ Loki, don’t you? Bad guy, crazy hat, tried to take over the world? Ringing any bells? I find it a little hard to believe this is just his _bit on the side_.”

 _“If she knew something, she’d be dead already.”_ The Black Widow stated. _“If she was sent to gain information, she wouldn’t be giving so much away.”_

“Yeah? Maybe that’s what he _wants_ us to think.” Tony paced back and forth.

“Tony, you sound paranoid.” The Cap commented.

“I need to be paranoid right now.” He barked. Those pills he had taken were making him jumpy. “I’m going in. You’re going to see how wrong you are.”

Tony stormed down the corridor. How could they not see it? This was Loki to a fucking tee. Just fucking laughing at them, as they stood there and did nothing. Tony wouldn’t do nothing. Not when the guy had slaughtered all those people had planted one of his spies right in the middle of Shield, and no-one was doing a fucking thing about it.

Loki didn’t do things for no reason. There was something, some kind of trap in this. He barged past the guards and into the interrogation room, the door swinging shut behind him. In the relative dark, the glow from his chest-plate half-lit the room. “Hiya there. Tony Stark. You pretended not to know me. I’ve got some questions of my own to ask you.”

“Go ahead.” She sighed.

“Great, yeah. Like; how fucking stupid do you think we are?”

“I’m sorry?” she pretended to be confused. Tony purposefully ignored it.

“You see, I’ve actually met Loki before; he’s the poster-boy for evil whack-jobs. That whole ‘charming’ act lasts for about five seconds before he either tries to kill you or warps your freaking mind, and you expect me to believe you’re the one who walks away from that scot-free? Nuh-uh. I don’t buy it. What did you do?” He stared at her, nose-to-nose. Then he grabbed her arms and shoved her backwards. “Don’t tell me you just fucked him. All this time I thought you were smart; but here you are, just another dumb bitch, who’s too stupid to keep her fucking legs together.” As she turned her face away from his, he pulled on her arm.

She slapped him hard across the face.

He recoiled in surprise, hand instinctively rubbing the skin. He always thought he could sense a slap coming from a woman, but she didn’t seem the type.

She spoke low. “Mr Stark. Don’t think you fucking know me. If you hit me, I will hit back. I do not respond well to threats, and yes, I made a mistake, one which I’m sure you know _plenty_ about, but I am trying my hardest to rectify it.” She glared, glancing to his hand. “And show whoever passes for a doctor in this place those fingernails, because you have fucking endocarditis!” she yelled.

That was a fucking weird insult.

He stood shocked, then shuffled out without a word. This was not how he had imagined this conversation going. 

 

#### Part 3 – Peace Offering

Minutes passed, hours even. It was impossible to tell in the tiny dark room. That was the worst thing they could do; leave her alone with her thoughts. Her head was aching, telling her over and over the things she didn’t want to remember.

_‘I’m not good…for you.’_

He…Loki had warned her. He had told her what he was, and she didn’t care! What was wrong with her? What did that make her? Maybe, some dark part of her had wanted it. No. She couldn’t think like that.

The things he had let him do…and she had begged him for it. She had wanted it. She had wanted him to take everything from her, and leave her mind empty. _She had wanted to worship her God._

No. Stop it! What the hell is wrong with you?

_You wanted it. You begged for it. You should fucking kill yourself you fucking whore._

“Could I have some water, please?” Caitlyn asked the wall. “Maybe a crossword or something?” she muttered. She needed to focus. In the dark and the quiet, her head was a busy place.

A knock rapped on the door.

“Yes?” She replied. Please. Anyone. Anything. Just take me out of here.

Tony Stark emerged, carrying a small glass bottle, and sporting a rather large black eye. “Peace offering.” 

“Ok. I did not do that.”

“No, that was Captain Haircut back there.” He indicated to somewhere behind the door.

“What, he just punched you in the face?” She could see that happening. The guy was an arrogant douche.

“Not exactly. He told me _‘That’s not how you talk to a lady’_ , I said to him that clearly you weren’t a lady, THEN he punched me in the face.”

“Defending my honour. What is he, from the fifties?” Please don’t go. Please don’t leave me with myself.

“Close.” Stark sat the bottle on the table. “Anyway, I came to…um…”

“Apologise?”

“That’s the one. The doc who patched up my face gave me some antibiotics and told me…you may have…saved my life…” he avoided her gaze, pouring whisky into the two glasses.

“Well, you were being a dickhead, but I’m not just going to let you die.” She avoided his.

“Well that’s great, shake my hand and smile for the camera.” He pointed towards one of the dark corners of the room that contained a red flashing LED. She complied. “That’s great. That good enough for you guys?” he addressed whoever was watching. “Great.” He reached into his pocket and pressed the button on a small device. The door bolted shut and the blinking light in the corner of the room ceased. “Right. I don’t have much time, and I need your help. Don’t worry about that; it’s just so they’re not listening.” His grin was lit by the blue glow of his chest.

“What?”

“Good question. See, I figure since you’re not dead, that’s because Loki has a _‘thing’_ for you.” Stark rambled using airquotes while simultaneously drinking. “And I know someone here is working for Loki, I can’t tell who, but it’s my guess that they’re pretty close by. But I think that whoever it is will be super interested in you.”

“You want to use me as bait?”

“You said you wanted to help.”

 _Fuck it._ “I do, I just…just tell me how.”

“Great!” He offered her the other glass. “You want some?” he asked as he poured himself another.

“I’m already having quite the hangover.” She shuddered at the loud banging on the door.

“Right, yeah.” He handed her mp3 player over. “Not too bad. Some not awful music. I may have upgraded it a little. See on the back there? Press that button, anytime, anywhere, and I will bring a freaking army.” He took a lazy swig as the pounding on the door continued. “Relax doc, my antibiotics work fine with alcohol. They’ll be putting up cameras, getting people to follow you, but I’ve got my own little mic in there, and I can talk to you any time, just set it to radio station preset 6. Of course I’ve got the override.”

“Cameras? Why?”

“I told them to.” He stated “They’ll be watching you…”

“…and…you’ll be watching them.” The penny dropped.

“Now you’re getting it. Sure you don’t want any?” he offered.

“Honestly. I had a whole bottle to myself not long ago.”

He shrugged, clicking the button to unlock the door and resume the camera transmission.

 _“Stark, what are you playing at?”_ Fury shouted through the comms system.

“Personal stuff, isn’t that right Doc?”

Caitlyn rolled her eyes.

“Telling me to eat right, drink in moderation, don’t take candy from strangers, that kinda stuff. Not to mention my numerous diseases…”

_“I’m sure I don’t want to know about any of that shit.”_

“Exactly. I did you a solid. How about we let the Doc go now? I’m pretty sure she’s not some kinda ninja terrorist. And I’ve met my fair share of ninja terrorists.”

_“…we’ll see what we can do.”_

“Thanks.” Caitlyn said. “Mr Stark, I was thinking. Do you know the definition of an alcoholic?” she asked, finally taking a drink from the glass he offered her.

“Nope.”

“It’s someone who drinks more than their doctor.” She smiled.

He laughed at that. “Thanks Doc. I’ll keep that in mind.”  
 

#### Part 4 – Watching

“What are we watching?” Tony asked the room: four Shield agents, the Captain and a Skype call with Black Widow. It was a real party, alright. They were all focused around some kind of CCTV footage of a restaurant.

Cap turned his head. “Loki, with the doctor.”

“Is that…is that a date?” Tony stared in disbelief “That’s fucking weird. It’s like seeing Dr Doom doing laundry.”

“Or Red Skull shopping for groceries.” Cap added.

Tony clapped him on the back. “Good one Cap.”

“Thanks. Sorry about the…” Captain Steve indicated to the billionaire’s black eye.

“Don’t worry about it. Happens all the time.” Tony shrugged. “Any thoughts, Spidergal?”

 _“I told you not to call me that.”_ She replied coolly _“And, no.”_

“That’s a first.” Tony snarked.

 _“Hey, I want in on this too!”_ Clint Barton, Pidgeon-eye, took over the speaker relay. _“Man that’s really weird. It’s like seeing Firefox…”_

“No-one cares about your life, Clint.” Tony interjected.

 _“Nat, I think…”_ Clint quickly switched into some form of Russian, arguing hotly with Black Widow. _“…but, doesn’t it look a bit like…”_

“I’ve already tried to bring that up, Barton.” The Cap shouted. “Tony doesn’t think we should be talking about it.”

Tony winced. _Subtle as a fucking chainsaw._

 _“No, not that…although…”_ Clint giggled. _“Ouch! Come on Nat, it is a bit…ok, ok. You wanna know what I think?”_

“God no.” Tony groaned.

_“I think it is what it looks like. I think it’s a date. Hell, everyone needs some time off once in a while.”_

“Sure. Tuesday, Evil; Wednesday, Evil; Thursday, Evil; Friday – Taco night.” Tony muttered. “Hell, Loki probably gets hammered on margaritas and just goes cray-cray.”

“I didn’t understand any of that.” Cap stated, staring blankly.

“Sarcasm, Cap. You’ll pick it up as we go along. Just stick with me, kid.”

Nick Fury burst through the doors and into the conference room. “Well, Earth’s mightiest heroes have concluded that the whole thing seems _‘fucking weird’_. I guess I should write that one down and get Shield right on it.”

 _“Sarcasm.”_ Tony mouthed.

“Where is Doctor Banner?” Cap asked “Shouldn’t he be here?”

“Not to mention Tinkerbelle on steroids! …Thor.” Tony clarified for Captain Steve.

“Oh.” Cap nodded.

“Thor is pursuing Loki as we speak. Apparently he’s got some fancy-ass Asgard LoJack going on.” Fury replied, still as pissed-off as ever. “And Doctor Banner is in an undisclosed location, and none of you are to attempt to make contact. Whatever Loki’s plan is, we know one thing for sure: he’s been after the Hulk from day-one.” He glared at Tony. “Which means no picking him up to go drinking or whatever it is you guys do.”

Tony huffed and rolled his eyes. “Fine.” He looked over to the Cap. “What about you, Steve? You wanna join me and my good friend ethanol?”

“I…I can’t get drunk. The super-soldier serum…” Cap confessed.

“Man, sucks to be you.”

“Stark!” Fury yelled. “The Avengers is not your own personal drinking club!”

“I know, right?” Stark replied.

“Also, how in the hell did you manage to turn an interrogation into a night-cap?!” Fury indicated to the half-empty bottle of Scotch.

He shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a giver.”

“You’re giving me a headache is what you’re doing.” Fury muttered. “Now, all of you, unless you have something productive to say, clear out!”

Tony pounded his hands down on Cap’s shoulders. “You heard the boss; School’s out.”

“Tony, I, uh…” Captain Steve looked a little apologetic.

“No. No, Cap. You don’t _live_ here, do you?” Tony gawped. “Come on, man! A young guy like you…well, a really well preserved old man like you? You don’t need to live in some government trophy case! Come on, Capsicle! Surely you’ve had enough of that kinda thing?”

“Stark!” Fury shouted. Like there was ever a different volume setting for that guy. He was always cranked up to at least eleven. “Enough trying to get my agents drunk! Find your own damn friends.”

“Pfft. Whatever.” With Bruce hiding away, the assassins in some hole, and Thor chasing _livin-la-vida-Loki_ , that didn’t leave him with a whole lot of options. “Just, you know, out of interest…”

“No. I will not go drinking with you.” Fury steamed.

“Just thought I’d ask. Being polite an’ all.”  
 

#### Part 5 – Waiting

He wished he could see her now. If only he had more time to explain…things were not so simple, and…curse her. Curse that damnable woman. That wicked, wilful woman. She had proved more of a hazard to his plans than the rest of the mortals combined. What was she doing to him? How had he let this happen? She…changed things.

But, Loki was nothing if not adaptable.

He pressed onward, through the passageways of the dark, making sure to send Thor on an exacting chase. Thrice he spun back to the same point. By the time Thor had made his way out of the puzzle, he would have lost the trail completely. That magic he bore on his wrist was much slower than Loki’s own. Now, to think of it, that was strange; that Odin had entrusted such a powerful tool to such an imbecile, who little understood its true power. The Allfather must have been getting desperate. To risk so much to bring him back…it seemed vengeance was a more powerful mistress than he had thought. He chuckled to himself. _Much like when he had stolen the gold from Lady Sif’s hair. She had given him such a beating…_

What was it with these women? He sighed. He wished he could see her face; that he could hold her; that in her captivity, he could assure her he had not abandoned her. Better yet, he wished he had been able to bring her with him. But he could not risk either. He had work to do, and the message from his scholar had been clear.

_‘The rest of the prophecy is in the books of Rossthof.’_

So she would have to wait, and he would have to return to the last place he should be. The last place they would expect.

The House of Odin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everybody hates Clint. :P
> 
> It's all getting rather plotty all of a sudden.
> 
> Thanks so much for everyone reading. You guys are what keep the story going. :)
> 
> x Pinch


	24. In the House of Odin

### Chapter 24 – In the House of Odin

#### Part 1 – Crush

Barton smirked, lining up his bow, and aiming at one of the insurgent army. He almost enjoyed this, if it weren’t for the constant threat of death. “So, are we just gonna ignore Loki’s little crush on you?” he asked, firing on target, then reaching back into his quiver.

“I’m not ignoring it. I know exactly what it means.” Natasha replied, reloading her gun with a calm poise. She never looked so at home as she did when she had a Glock in her hands. She stared out, replying without making eye contact. “At best it’s some kind of power play, at worst it was meant to be a fetish killing.”

“Nat, why do you always have to go to the dark place?” Clint criticised.

She shrugged. “The dark place is where the dark things are. You have to find them if you want to kill them.”

“But you don’t have to always go looking for the bad stuff. Bad stuff comes to us all the time.” He complained, sniping another enemy with an ultra-streamlined arrow. He paused, thinking. “Still, there’s the question; if that was his plan, why isn’t she dead yet?”

“I was thinking the same thing. On your right.” She indicated to another target.

“Thanks.” He nodded.

“Don’t mention it.” She checked their maps. “I’ve tried to find out more from Dr Banner, but he’s unreachable at the moment.”

“Doesn’t this all feel just a bit…?” he searched for the word.

“I agree.” She replied, knowing him well enough not to need the rest.

He shrugged. “Still, he could just be fucking with us.”

“I agree with that too.”

He sniggered “Loki’s trying to fuck around with you, Nat.” He loved pushing her buttons sometimes.

“Shut up, Barton.”

“Yes, mam.” He replied, trying to keep the laugh out of his voice.

   


#### Part 2 – A Place Like Home

Loki entered Asgard through one of the portals he had created earlier. To cut new tears might raise some kind of alarm, and he would rather his arrival be kept silent, for now. He stepped into his old chambers. The rich dark woods and heavy gold and emerald drapes, the metal he had twisted into pleasing forms to display that which he valued. There, in pride of place, his favourite blades. Ornately patterned steel, perfectly counterbalanced. Oh, he had missed such elegance. Everything was exactly as he had left it; in memoriam, it would seem.

He traced the spines of leather-bound tomes he had spent countless days over. He smiled. Not a single fleck of dust. It seemed his room was being kept pristine for his return. He turned to inspect his vials and potions…Everything was _almost_ as he had left it. He stared. He was sure of it. One of his vials was emptier than before. He examined it more closely. Powdered _Nyper_? What would anyone want with that? It was of little use, and its value less. If it had been taken as a memento, he could think of a dozen things more suitable…

Regardless, he had other tasks in hand. He lifted one of the blades, and pocketed it in a fit of sentimentality. Calmly, quietly, he pressed against his door, listening for footsteps. Then, satisfied his way was clear, he slipped into the corridor. It was just as he had remembered, only perhaps more imposing. The gold vaulted ceilings gave footsteps grand echoes; a pronouncement of intention. This was position, this was place. This was making your presence known, and having those lesser cower before you.

“Good day, Lord Baldur.” A passing servant nodded, head held low.

Loki grinned. He did enjoy adopting the affect of Lord Baldur. As a noble, Baldur would not be out of place striding through the halls. Additionally, Loki despised the man and took great pleasure at bringing him into disrepute. He was still not skilled at replicating the voice, but it was not necessary to speak with servants. He gave a firm yet gallant nod of the virile mop of white-blonde hair, and went on his way, trying hard not to snigger as he did so. It was not so difficult to match the man’s mannerisms. Liars knew how to imitate their own kind. Oh, if they only knew the _valiant_ Lord Baldur a little better…

This was a thrill, far more than he had anticipated. Asgard’s most sought-after criminal, strolling through the halls, right under the Allfather’s nose. He almost felt like screaming his name aloud. _‘I am here, old man! Your son Loki has returned!’_ He approached the wall, with its beautifully carved marble figures; men and women, dancing in celebration at the conclusion of some glorious battle or other. He ran his fingers over the stonework form of a woman and pressed inwards, hearing the lock catch. The stone panel groaned slightly, and swung to the side, allowing him passage.

Closing the door behind him, he ascended the stairs into Odin’s hall of stolen relics. Oh, there were a great many wonderful things here. The casket of ancient winters: think on all the damage that might be done with that; the Tesseract: now protected by a heavy magic that it would take far too long to break; endless weapons from slain foes: trophies of said same glorious battle that graced the entrance; and yet…the works of Rossthof…missing. Taken from their perch. Curious indeed. It seemed someone had anticipated his arrival.

Secreting himself away in a hidden corner, he left his mortal form and sought out the world of reflection, spying wherever he could. Most of the rooms of the palace were eternally empty, only visited by servants and the occasional licentious noble. As, he saw, was one currently in such occupation; it seemed Fandral had found another woman to worship him. On her knees, no less.

Loki moved onward, searching for that faint scent of old magics…There. There was that subtle slinking power, somewhere, hidden from view. Something else, too. Something he couldn’t quite place…He returned to his body, leaving the cavernous crypt the way he had come, and went towards his goal. He ascended towering stairs, rising high enough to see the view from the windows; all of Asgard, at his feet. The golden fields, the green of the plains; it was as though it had been built for him to rule. Though, not him, it seemed. Never had it been intended to be his.

He could change that.

He approached the heavy wooden door, covered in decorative etchings, and pushed gently upon it. Before him was a more feminine room than most of the others. Golds played against delicate rose and cream tones. Bedposts were carved into flowers in bloom. Paintings that hung on the walls depicted sweet, young love with virginal smiles. It was the sickening splendour of one convincing themselves they were as pure and as touched by adoration.

He searched for that dim magic, which hung so low in the air it lapped at his feet. He bent down, feeling for it, letting his hands glide through the memories the stones had seen. He closed his eyes…it was there, and yet not…he traced the borders of the stone tile, and pulled at its edges. Beneath the surface lay a hidden compartment, concealed from prying eyes. There it was; bound in black, gold-embossed leather. _‘Rossthof’_. It was small, sized to fit in a pocket. He lifted it, and found another beneath; less a book, more a folio of unbound scripts written in different hands. _What was this?_

Then he noticed it. That unmistakable energy in the air; runes had been cast, but something else too…some unfamiliar thing. He took Rossthof’s writings in hand, and let his fingers search out that mysterious entity. He walked to the table, feeling it more strongly there.

“Loki?” Frigga gasped, emerging from one of the side-rooms. It seemed she could see past any illusion he cast, so he shed it. She ran to him, to embrace him in her arms. “Loki, you have come home!” When she saw his expression, she stopped dead in her tracks. Her eyes brimmed, and she stared in horror at the vial he held in his hand.

He spoke in calm, warning tones. “This is not your normal sleeping draught.” Loki sensed the last tendrils of magic. “Mother, what have you done?”

“I am still _mother_ , then?” she smiled faintly through her tears. “Loki, I…”

“Stay back.” He warned, brandishing the blade without thinking, then taking it away as shame overtook him. _She looked so hurt_. He backed away towards the door, and bolted it shut.

“Loki, please.” she cried. “My son…please let me hold you.”

“I do not want forgiveness.” He muttered.

“No. Forgiveness is mine to beg of you.” She wept. “Oh, Loki. To see you like this…”

“Mother. What have you done?” he repeated.

“I…I only wanted change…a different fate, for all of us.” She stumbled on her words, knowing that he would recognise a lie as soon as it was spoken.

“You know as well as I, that changes of fate are always for the worse!” he hissed. “You; the one who taught me that magic always has its price.” He gripped the vial too tightly, shattering it in his hand. “Now, you tell me what you have brought.”

She saw the moved stone tile, the book in his pocket. “No, Loki! You must give that back to me!” she tried to approach, but her fear held her back. “Loki, you must not read from the book!”

“Why, does it contain powerful secrets? I know of a handful those already.” He threatened.

“Loki. Prophecy becomes fate once read!” She shook. “What is in there does not have to be!”

“Like the Fall of the Fourth God?” he asked, watching her reaction.

She stood speechless.

“It seems the answers I seek are in here after all.” He sneered. “So good of you to keep it for me.”

“Loki, please!” she begged. “Please, forgive your mother. Do not take this vengeance out on our people!”

He stared, brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of her words. “What?”

The silence between them was shattered at the sound of thunderous footsteps.

“Did you call on the guards?” Loki hissed.

“No. I swear!” she pleaded with him to believe her, even though he could read the truth on her face.

“No. Of course not.” He sneered. “We both know there are some our _great protector_ Heimdall deigns to watch rather closer than others. Is that not so, mother?” He accused. “Oh yes, there are a great many secrets in the House of Odin!”

As the guards burst through the door he made for the balcony, leaping over the edge. He plummeted past golden battlements, at the last moment slipping away, into the nothing between worlds.

   


#### Part 3 – The Movies

Ok, at first it was annoying, but now it was getting freaking ridiculous. Loki was sure as hell playing the long game this time.

Tony stared out of his window at Stark Tower; not wanting to, say, dangle himself in front of the window just to lure Loki out…but a little bit, yeah. _Six Fucking Weeks_. Hell, in that time he could have _built_ an army, but no fucking sign of Loki’s evil plan. Maybe he just got bored and went home.

He was about to pour himself a scotch, then he remembered he was trying to stay sober. But without bad guys to face or people to piss off, sober was hella boring. Thor had lost Loki’s track, and was off shacking up with…sorry: ‘ _protecting_ ’ his little lady. Assassin’s creed were off on another of their highly illegal adventures, which apparently didn’t need Tony and his _‘special’_ style of heroics. Captain was learning to be a big boy soldier all over again, and Tony…Tony was fucking alone. Still no word from Bruce, other than the letter he had got five weeks ago:  
 _‘Don’t let him take her.’_  
That was all it had fucking said. No: _PS, I’m fine, bro._ Nothing.

He had tried, and failed, to get through to Pep. Apparently _‘I’m sorry’_ cars weren’t as romantic as he had thought. Either that or she was holding out for an F-18.

He sighed. “Jarvis? How we doing on that Top-Secret project?”

_“Which one, Sir?”_ his walls droned.

“Whack-a-mole.”

_“Still no new activity, Sir.”_ It was like even Jarvis was getting bored.

“Well, let’s go over it again, shall we?” Looking back on it now, this really was Shield’s problem. Boring things were always Shield’s problem, not Tony’s. “Someone operating on the Shield Helicarrier. Either with programming experience, or trained up real well. Not Fury, obviously, and probably not Captain _‘back in my day, we used an abacus’_ …that just leaves…”

_“Fourty-nine potential suspects.”_ Jarvis replied.

“Jesus.” He groaned. “Alright, how about we narrow it down to those using consoles at the time?”

_“I have narrowed it down, Sir. Otherwise it would be closer to eighty.”_

_I would so rather be being shot at right now._

_“We could go over personnel files again, if you would like.”_

“No!” he answered abruptly. “Jeez, Jarvis, you do that and I think I might just have to throw _myself_ out the window.”

_“Apologies, Sir. Defenestration was not my intent.”_

“Well…how about we catch up with our favourite house-bound Doc?” he suggested. She was kind of amusing to talk at, sometimes. A captive audience for Tony’s ramblings. And they were starting to get along better since he had managed to convince Shield to let her go back to work; pointing out that the hospital was probably _less_ likely to get exploded with her in it.

The video-link connected in a matter of seconds, showing him the Doc sitting in front of a TV screen. Seemed like it was night-time there.

_“We are not who we are.”_ The stoner on her TV mused to himself.

He squinted at the screen, trying to make out what she was watching. “Hey Doc, is this a horror movie?” Stark asked incredulously. “Don’t you think that’s kinda…?”

_“This is a fucking great movie.”_ She snapped.

“But it’s…horror. Maybe not the best…” he suggested.

_“Shut the fuck up, Stark.”_ She swore. _“Loki has taken my freedom, my future, and possibly my sanity from me, but this is where I draw the fucking line!”_

He sighed, leaning back into his chair. He couldn’t fault her on that logic. Sometimes you take freedom where you can get it. “So…you didn’t really plan for any of this, did you Doc?”

_“I’m eating popcorn out of a vase. Do I look like a person who plans?”_

He smiled. “No, I guess not.”

_“Anyway, don’t you have work to do, or something? Other than watch me watch TV?”_

“Well, yeah.” He huffed. “I mean, if you’re gonna get all technical about it.” _But I don’t have anyone else to talk to. Not really. Not about random crap._ “But you know, Doc? I think I want to annoy you for the next few hours, instead of everyone else. My gift to the world.”

She sighed. _“Fine. But just…”_ she paused the movie _“…don’t ruin this for me. This is my night off.”_

“Why? What else would you be doing right about now? Or, I guess, _who else_ would you be doing?” He snarked. “What? Too soon?”

_“You’re a dickhead, Tony Stark.”_

“And don’t you forget it.” He grinned. “I bet that guy’s gonna die next.”

_“Fuck off.”_

Watching the Doc watch TV; it was like some surreal movie-night. “You know, in the movies, it’s people like you who die first.” he offered supportively.

She flipped him the bird.

“Yeah, definitely you.”


	25. Keep Myself Awake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another very creepy Loki chapter: "Part 3 - Children's Stories" is probably not for the squeamish.

### Chapter 25 – Keep Myself Awake

#### Part 1 – Something of Use

That night, every night since…him…the nightmares were back. She could feel it, all of it, over and over. Those hands…cold and dead…the unmistakable chemical scent…fingers that pressed against her lips, into her mouth…this time she bit down.

Caitlyn woke up shaking, rubbing her face vigorously, trying to scrub away the memory. To keep herself awake, keep from…

“ _What’s up, Doc? What’s with the screaming?_ ” Tony Stark’s voice called from one of the wall speakers.

“It’s nothing…just a nightmare…” she held her head with both hands, pressing, trying to keep herself together. She swore she could taste formaldehyde.

“ _Yeah? What about?_ ”

“Oh, just the usual. Nothing important.” She sighed, feeling her pulse. How could it be worse? It had been six weeks! How could it still be getting worse?

“ _Come on Doc, I have literally nothing else to do except annoy you. You might as well tell me now. I can do this all day._ ” He was so stubborn, he probably would. It had taken this long to stop him calling her ‘ _slut-bucket_ ’.

“It’s…corpse hands.” She shook a little “In the sand. Left hands as a matter of fact. Are you going to tell me what that says about me?” she snapped.

“ _Yeah, that’s totally my thing._ ” Even through the speaker his sarcasm was clear. “ _You know what? Here’s my analysis: it means nothing, because it’s a dream and dreams don’t mean anything._ ”

“Apart from the fact I’ve spent over 80 hours of my life…cutting up dead bodies.” She paced her breathing, slow exhale, inhale, slow exhale. _Think of something else, anything else. Not him. Not the way everything seemed to melt away when you were with him. Not the way you felt in his arms._ She shuddered.

“ _Let’s just keep that between you and me m’kay? Fury already thinks you docs are creepy enough._ ”

“Really?” she smiled involuntarily.

“ _Oh yeah, he’s got the whole ‘white-coat’ thing big time._ ”

She smirked. “I’m sorry. I really shouldn’t find that funny.”

“ _Why not? I do. Funny is funny, Doc. Just accept it._ ”

“Thanks, Tony.” She felt her pulse; it seemed to have slowed. “It’s really weird having someone looking out for me, but thanks.” It was strangely comforting, like having a snarky guardian angel.

“ _Welcome Doc. Um..._ ” Tony paused. He didn’t normally stop for breath. “ _Hey Doc, I’ve got a bit of a question. It’s kind of a personal thing._ ”

“Yeah? Go ahead.” She sighed. Might as well. She wasn’t going to sleep now, anyway.

“ _So my girlfriend and I haven’t exactly been getting on lately…_ ”

“Stop right there Tony.” She stated firmly. “I want you to ask yourself if this is a question for your own doctor, because I _sure as hell_ don’t want to know about any of that.”

“ _No, you sick kitten! We’ve been getting in arguments all the time, and I don’t know what’s wrong with her. And you being a girl and all…_ ”

“I’m the only other woman you know?” That was depressing. He should probably work on that misogynist streak.

“ _Well, let’s just say there’s one other, but she doesn’t really do warm and fuzzy._ ”

“I’m glad I’m your premier source of warm fuzziness.” She took a sip of the water beside her bed. “Do you love her?”

“ _Who? Assassin-atrix?_ ”

“Your girlfriend.”

“ _Um, yeah._ ” He said it as though ‘ _duh_ ’ should have come at the end.

“Then apologise.”

“ _Hell, I thought of that! But that’s not even it. I’ve tried._ ”

“Not for the argument you’re having. The one you’re not having.”

“ _You’ve got to run that past me again, Doc._ ”

“The last time you made her cry. I mean really cry, when you broke her heart.”

“ _Who’s saying I did…?_ ” he seemed a little taken aback.

“You did. There. Now I said it.” She waited for it to kick in. “It’s something big that she thinks she can’t talk about.”

“ _What are you…?_ ” he asked, then abruptly followed “ _Shit._ ”

“There you go. Apologise for that.”

“ _I thought…I…_ ”

“You didn’t get past it, you just swept it under the rug. Now apologise for that like you broke her heart.” She muttered “And for god’s sake, don’t try to buy your way out of it.”

“ _Thanks Sensei, I wouldn’t have figured that out without your words of wisdom._ ” He said sarcastically. But, just because it was sarcastic didn’t make it any less true.

“You’re welcome. Just glad I can be some use…while I can.” A cold shiver crept across her skin. His ghost was always there.

“ _Hey Doc, stop with the sad voice. We caught him once, we’ll do it again. You just sit tight. I’m not going to let that bastard touch you. Alright? When this is all done, me and you will go grab a drink in wherever the fuck’s open._ ”

She started to choke up. “Just know it’s not your fault…”

“ _God, you Brits are so depressing. It’s gonna be fine. Stop moping about it._ ”

“Yeah. I’ll try. Thanks Tony.” She pulled the bedcovers around her, trying to keep that creeping cold away.

“ _No problem, Doc._ ”

   


#### Part 2 – Faith

It had been too long, longer than he had planned. Loki cursed himself. The journey to Asgard and back; it had been over a month. It was too long, and the magic required was too powerful to be kept silent. Thor would no doubt be on his trail along with those soldiers. He should not have stopped, should not have glanced…but he had to see her.

To watch her suffering, crying out, and not being able to touch her…it was painful. Worse still; words of comfort uttered by _Anthony Stark_. That was an alliance he had not foreseen. That made things more dangerous…

“M…my Lord?” the scholar stumbled.

“What?!” Loki barked.

The scholar jumped, then fell to his knees, head bowed low. “Apologies, my Lord…” he whined “This will take far longer than I anticipated. But I…I swear I shall work without rest…I…” his whole body trembled at the anticipation of a beating.

“Why?” he asked, grasping the scholar’s hair and jerking his head to face him.

“I…I…” he whimpered, eyes wide and streaming “Every page is a riddle within a riddle, no two the same. There are characters used that I have never seen before, and…” he gasped breaths. “…I am sorry. I am unworthy.”

Loki cast him to the floor, standing above him, and placing his boot upon the man’s back, driving him into the ground. “If you are of no use to me, you have no reason to live.” He spoke calmly, pressing down with just enough force to cause discomfort and restrict breathing. “Is that not correct?”

“No…no reason to live.” The scholar whined.

He smiled. What an obedient little creature. “So, if I choose to let you live, that means that you have use still.”

“Yes…my Lord.”

Loki took his boot off the scholar’s back, and knelt before him. “Then, is this not a sign of my trust? Of my love?” he smiled, raising the scholar gently by the chin.

“Yes my Lord. My God.” The scholar beamed as blood ran down his face.

Loki took his shattered glasses and drew forth magic to repair them. He placed them, mended, back onto the supplicant’s face. “Do not doubt my faith in your ability.” He ran his fingers through unkempt brown hair. “I have chosen you for a reason.”

Little did the scholar know the truth of it. Loki had hoped to keep the prophecies to him alone, but there had been an interference; it seemed his mother had placed a curse upon the book, and to him all words had faded into the white. He had removed a page from the book and attempted to undo the magics upon it, but as he had cast his spell, the leaf had been incinerated before his eyes. He could not risk losing another.

“You know how to summon me, should you find anything.” Loki stood and straightened his suit.

“Yes, my Lord.” The scholar’s head still bowed low.

Perhaps he would have liked to test the man further, but he had other matters to attend to, before Thor closed in. From his numerous sources he had gathered that there was one who might know the whereabouts of Doctor Banner, and providence had granted that she was one he had long owed a visit.  
 

#### Part 3 – Children’s Stories

Jane smiled as she stirred from sleep, feeling the hand caress her cheek. “You back? I thought you said…” the long cold fingers clasped across her mouth as she tried to scream.

The towering black-haired man she knew to be Loki stared down at her, perched on the side of her bed, holding a knife to her throat. “I am afraid not.” He said coolly. “Thor is otherwise occupied. Doctor Selvig and your female companion are asleep.” He trailed the knife down her neck. “I advise you stay silent, should you wish not to lose anything you hold dear.” He placed the point of the blade against her skin, just above the top of her pyjama shirt. “Do you understand me?”

She gave a brief nod, watching his eyes wander down. She felt sick at his gaze.

He removed his hand from over her mouth, and smiled. “Thor spoke very highly of you.” He turned her head gently, inspecting her with interest. “Yes…I see it…” he smiled “But I suppose he has always had a fondness for creatures like you.” He held the knife above her face, letting her watch it. “Frightened, weak little things…that he can protect…” he drew it back. “Why do you think he does that?”

She bleated out something like a half-formed sound that was immediately smothered by his cold hand.

“That was rhetorical. Do not interrupt me again.” He growled.

She saw from the moonlight bouncing off the walls that he was smiling. He was enjoying this.

He released her, instead moving his attentions to her pyjama shirt. His fingers played with the edge of the blue silk in a way that made her skin crawl. “When Thor was very young, he used to collect broken little animals. Did you know that?” he held the knife flat against her, then in a quick surgical strike, cut the first button free. “But the one I remember most…” he parted the shirt with the knife “…was a little brown field-mouse.”

She fought back against her impulse to fight, to run, to tear him away, and instead laid there motionless.

Loki continued, smiling widely. “He was so happy when he showed me the tiny little creature. There it was; trembling in his hands…” he moved down and cut a second button loose. “…and he begged me to help him keep it safe, not to tell…” he looked pained for a moment, then shook it aside. “The little mouse turned into his pet, his project, his secret obsession. He would feed it, and pet it, and…” he turned the knife against her again “…play with it…” he sent another button flying.

She listened to the silence around her, the sound of night in the New Mexico desert. Someone had to be out there, somewhere, but would they be able to take down a Norse God? She felt her eyes tear up as sickness rose in her throat.

“But, you see, Thor is somewhat fickle. His affections come and go, and he cares little to think on those he leaves behind…” Loki cut open another button, leaving her shirt nearly fully open. He ran his fingers up and down the seams, smiling as she winced to his touch. “Next came the rabbit. A handsome thing it was, too; stiff ears, and a thick coat of fur, and…oh, sadly, a broken paw. Well, that wasn’t to do, and Thor took the creature in straight away. He would feed it, pet it, and…are you sensing a pattern here?” he laughed “I should hope so!” He took off the fifth button, ever so gently. “But in the meanwhile, what had become of the mouse?”

She thought she heard something. A cough? Selvig? She tried not to react, to keep the secret safe.

He grinned at his own menace. “Thor had forgotten all about his little pet, hidden away in one of the chambers. Then, one day he came to me in tears. His little mouse was lying so stiff, so still, and so cold, but…he said to me ‘ _its belly moves_ ’” Loki removed the last button, softly parting the shirt to display her beneath him. “Hmm.” He noted, observing her form, bringing his fingers to her skin.

Jane jolted when he did that, but it only made him laugh.

“He thought the little mouse might be with child, and so he asked me to help him…” Loki pressed the tip of the knife against her stomach. “And cut it out.” He trailed the knife upwards against her skin, leaving a faint red line at the scratch. “And, do you know what I found? The whole thing…was crawling with maggots…feasting on _dead flesh_ …”

There; footsteps.

“He had left the mouse so alone and so helpless…”

He leaned in close, holding the edge of the knife across her cheek. He whispered in her ear, his cold breath chilling her neck.

“So, little mouse, I wonder; what shall happen when he forgets about you?”

She could feel his grin against her.

“Where is Doctor Banner?” he asked calmly. “You may speak.”

“No.” she replied, shaking. She heard sounds outside.

“ _Jane? Jane, the sensors are going off. Is everything alright?!_ ” Selvig called from the corridor.

“Help!” she screamed, thrashing against Loki, who easily pinned her below him.

The door rattled. “ _Jane, it’s locked!_ ” he bashed against it, the wooden frame creaking “ _Hang on Jane. I’m going to get the gun._ ”

Loki knelt upon her “Where is Doctor Banner?” he repeated, holding the knife to her throat.

She felt tears slip down her cheeks. “I don’t know.” She whispered. “He wrote letters. Somewhere different every time.”

He hissed. “If you are lying to me…”

She let out a small scream as the blade sliced…and cut through her hair.

“Give Thor a message from me.” He ordered as he stepped back from her. “If he interferes with what is mine, I shall with what is his.”

She crawled back and clutched her shirt, pulling it across to cover her chest.

“Goodnight, little mouse.” He vanished in front of her.

Selvig’s gun blew a hole in the door, and he burst in. “Jane?! Are you alright?!” he stared “My God. Was it Loki? What has he done…?”

“No. Nothing.” She shook her head, grasping tightly at the shirt.

“I’m calling Thor.”

“No.”

“He needs to know about this, Jane!”

“No. That’s what Loki wants.” She was possessed by calm analysis.

“He’s mad!” Selvig said, exasperated “None of us know what he wants. Jane…” he placed the shotgun down and sat beside her. “Jane, we are scientists, not soldiers. This isn’t for us. We need to tell the people who know what to do about this.”

She tried to grasp hold of her sharpness, to stop from crumbling completely. “Tell them his knife…it had runic engravings…” she could still feel the trail burning. Her hand ran across her skin, finding nothing.

“Knife? My God, Jane…” Selvig wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

She couldn’t fight it anymore, and a small sob escaped her lips.

“In the stories of my parents…” he shook his head. “…I never knew he would be such a coward. You hear me, Loki Liesmith?! You are a coward!”

Jane felt suddenly so very, very tired; and yet… at the same time…like she would never sleep again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for reading!  
> Comments are very much appreciated. :)  
> x Pinch


	26. The Selfish Ones

### Chapter 26 – The Selfish Ones

 

#### Part 1 – The Realm of Monsters

“Brother. What have you done?” Thor asked the forms of Loki, once more upon the deserted mountainside. Morning light glinted across the rock, disguising the treacherous crevasses.

“Again, you address me in such _cruel_ ways.” Loki kept emotion from his face, feigning confusion. “What ill did I ever do you to earn this?”

Thor tightened his hand into a fist. “If you had brought harm to her…”

“What?” Loki smiled briefly, then slipped into his facade. “What new threat, Odinson? What curse upon me? I have borne so many, surely another would not break me in two.”

“Loki!” Thor bellowed. “You are not this monster!” He glanced over the images, knowing well that he could not strike them all down. “Do not become your own lie! Do not force me…” he raised Mjolnir in warning.

“No, _Odinson_ , do not _force me_.” Loki hissed, charging his sceptre in multiple illusions.

“Why are you doing this? I do not understand!” Thor could have wept to see the twisted creature before him, the bitter poison that had corrupted his brother.

“No, I did not expect you would.” The Lokis slowly paced, each with a sadness shattering the mask of hate. “You have a choice to make, Odinson. I have merely presented it to you.”

Thor stared, unable to comprehend.

“Come now, you must appreciate this.” Loki smiled coolly. “You attempted to trap me, and I escaped your clutches. You tried to save these _humans_ , and you left your little pet unprotected. Does this not all seem so sadly familiar?” he sighed. “And they call _me_ mad.”

Thor shook his head. “You are not mad, Loki.”

“That is exactly my point! Care to put that forward to Director Fury at your next meeting? _Do_ put in a good word on my behalf.” Loki’s face twinged, and he giggled to himself. “Oh, Thor, don’t you see? This is where the fun begins! This is where you can stop all the hypocrisy. You know you cannot be a servant of two realms. I have shown you this so many times…and still…I shall have to make it simpler. Return to Asgard, and, in exchange, the Chitauri will not darken this realm.”

It hurt him to hear those words from a brother whose council he had always trusted. “Loki. You know I cannot.”

“Oh, but you must! The Chitauri are _brutal_! You think you can protect your precious Earth? You are mistaken. Perhaps this time you might be victorious, but the next? Or the time after? Thor. I will never stop. I will never yield. I will be king of one realm or another. Now, will you watch your mortals perish, or will you protect those you hold dear? _Mother_?”

Thor’s heart leapt as he heard Loki speak that word. That was said with love.

“Do not mistake my sentimentality for weakness Odinson!” Loki cried. “You cannot have all while I am left with nothing!” He threw something to Thor’s feet from all directions at once. “Now you choose!”

“What is this?” Thor asked, staring at the silver band.

“You do not think I would make you give up your little pet?” Loki smiled over gritted teeth. “Oh, no, I have made this so _very easy_ for you. Once that is around her arm, she is bound to you and will travel as you do. All the way to Asgard.” The Lokis moved closer, looking him in the eye “Protect her. Keep her from me. It is the only way she will be safe, I swear you that.” He seemed to almost sigh. “ _Brother…_ ”

The word cut like a dagger in the savage way it was torn from Loki’s lips.

“The God of Thunder belongs in the sky. Leave Midgard to the monsters.”

“I cannot do what you ask of me.” Thor shook his spinning head.

“Then I will kill her. Slowly. Painfully. I will take every goodness from this realm and _I will make you watch it bleed_.”

Thunder clapped overhead as the sky darkened. “What creature entered your mind to turn it to such dark things?!” Thor roared. “The Chitauri?!”

“True, there are few things worse than Chitauri.” Loki smiled, dropping to a whisper. “And I have met many of them. But do not mistake me; I have never been their puppet.”

Thor trembled.

“Oh. That is _precious_.” Loki grinned. “Had you hoped I had been controlled? That all this wickedness was never mine? You are so terribly mistaken, Odinson. Do not insult me with your false pity. This is exactly what I have always been, you were simply too blind to see. But, by all means, believe it; if that will make lying safe in your bed in Asgard more bearable.”

He felt as though he were choking. “They will never surrender to you.”

“Come, do you not trust your Avengers to take down the God of Wickedness without you by their side? I simply ask a fight with fairer odds. With you gone I have no need of the Chitauri. This is the way I would prefer, rather than to rule over a pile of dust and ash.”

Thor bit back bitterness as the words fell from him. “You swear it?”

“I swear. For all my word means, I swear it; on mother’s life.”

Thor felt a sickness deep within, a terrible decision in which he knew he would choose selfishly. He could never outwit his brother, and the consequences of losing would be too great. Still, there was one thought that spun in his mind. “…I know there is a woman here whom you seek.”

Loki’s eyes flashed with anger at the mere mention.

“You must tell me; do you mean her ill?” Thor pleaded with his brother for the truth.

Loki snorted at the suggestion. “Not that it is _any_ of your concern, but, no. I wish no harm to her.”

That did not make it right, but the guilt did lessen slightly. He could not allow a Chitauri attack. Any price would be worth that, and yet…he was running from battle. Thor: Guardian of the Weak, Defender of Midgard was no longer. But he had to protect Jane…

_Earth must fight its own battles now._

Thor could not leave without one final word. “Brother…I forgive you.”

At that, Loki snarled and vanished, his illusions splintering in the half-light. 

 

#### Part 2 – Careless Talk

She had been back on the wards nearly a month, but Caitlyn still couldn’t get used to them talking behind her back. She hated all the pity in their eyes, and the extra-attentive kindness. It made her feel even more like a complete fraud.

_They think you’re innocent, but you wanted it._

“Shut up.” She whispered to herself, rubbing her ears.

_You don’t deserve their pity._

Their voices still permeated through the door of the grunt-cupboard. _“Is that why we’ve got to wear these alarms?”_ one woman asked.

_“Didn’t you hear about it on the news?”_ another replied. This voice was deeper, lowered by years of cigarette smoke.

Whatever happened to those old war posters: ‘Careless Talk Costs Lives’?

_“Something about a terrorist threat, wasn’t it?”_ chirpy-woman asked. _“Wait, was it her?!”_

_“Apparently one of these kids had a dad who was in a terrorist cell. She found out about it and they kidnapped her, right outside the hospital! She was off for weeks, poor thing.”_ The deep one lowered her voice to a thin rasp. _“I heard she was tortured.”_

_“That’s so awful!”_ the first gasped.

Fucking gossips. They could at least get their facts straight.

_Because it’s not torture. Not if you beg for it._

“Shut up!” she hissed.

_You’re talking to yourself, Caitlyn._

_You’re fucking crazy._

She stuck her earphones in and turned the volume up loud. She sighed. When you’re fighting the voices in your head, you know you’re in a bad place. She stared through the paperwork, trying to concentrate on a hundred other things. Anything else. Not how everything was falling apart. The screaming guitar in her ears was almost painful, and that helped.

She shook off the feeling of being watched, closing her eyes and letting sound drown the world. The crashing waves in every beat battered her sensibilities and let her loose.

> _‘Chase all of those memories away,  
>  Save them all for another day.  
>  Don’t you remember it was rain that drowned you?’_

She rubbed her eyes lightly, then opened them. It was then that she noticed the shadow that fell across the room. A hand grasped her shoulder. She screamed.

“Woah! Caitlyn!” Stephano exclaimed. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

She pulled her shaking hands from her face. “Sorry.” She tried to force a smile. “Sorry Stephano. It’s good to see you…hang on. Why are you…?”

“You forgot.” He smiled. “I knew you’d forget, which is why…” he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small patterned card. “…I got you a spare.”

She turned it over in her hands. “Shit. I’m sorry Stephano.” She had completely forgotten it was already August.

“It’s fine!” he laughed “I already talked to Doctor Sam and switched your shifts for tomorrow. You’re doing one of his weekends, but you didn’t give me much to bargain with!” Stephano looked smaller in his normal clothes, and kind of…like a hipster. “Can we chat, or do you have something important here?”

“Four discharges and a death certificate.” She groaned. “It’s always a party.”

“Great!” he smiled “You know, I love coming here when I don’t have to work.”

“You’re a surgeon. You never work.” She smirked back at him.

He stuck out his tongue.

“Did you just come here to gloat about your free time?”

“Yes. And to make sure you have something to wear to my wedding.” He smiled. “Do you have a dress?”

“I have many dresses. Some of them even have colours.” She replied sarcastically.

“What colours?”

“Blue-ish?”

“What kind of blue-ish?”

“Em…” she wasn’t prepared for follow-up questions. “Kind of…” she tried to access the Dulux paint chart of her mind. “…you know the sclera in Osteogenesis Imperfecta?” she waved her hand up and down. “And it’s got one of those thingys…sort of a corneal arcus shade.”

“Is the latest revision on eye diseases by any chance?!” Stephano laughed. “Alright, grey-blue and grey sash it is.”

“Well, you take all the poetry out of it when you say it like that.” She smiled, turning on her chair and back to the files.

“Hey, you don’t get away that easy! You still owe me one.”

“No…” she knew what he was going to say.

“The singer doesn’t know any German…” he continued despite her protestations.

“No! I don’t even…” she shook her head. “You know I don’t like crowds.”

“Caitlyn. No-one will even know you’re there. Not when I’m making a fool of myself anyway.” He patted her on the shoulder. “Come on. I’ll get you really drunk first.”

“You’d better.” She muttered.

He pulled her into a bear hug, squeezing tightly. “Thank you!”

“No-one else would get away with this crap.” She smiled despite herself.

“I know.” He giggled. “Caitlyn…I’m getting married!”

“You’re just realising this now?”

“Uh huh.” He finally released her, still beaming. “Don’t worry. I’ll talk to those Americans who’ve been stalking you. This is happening!”

“ _Fuck off._ ” She mouthed. “Let me get back to work.”

Stephano was a force of nature when he put his mind to it. It was a good thing for the rest of them that he never used his powers for evil.  
 

#### Part 3 – A House Divided

“Do you smell that?” Fury asked, pacing the corridor.

“What, Sir?” Agent Hill replied, remaining still and watching him as he strode past her.

“Bullshit.” He grunted. “Already down one super-powered Avenger, now we’re losing the Demi-God? Next thing you know, Captain Rodgers ‘ll be in some goddamn retirement home and I’ll just be left with motherfucking Stark.”

“You think Loki’s behind this?”

“No, I think the Tooth Fairy’s just real pissed off this year.” Fury felt his head ready to split in two. “What about Barton and Romanov?”

“Still in the field, Sir.” Hill replied, opening their files on her tablet. “There was an unexpected second-wave of violence. We lost them after that.”

“Of course there was.” He nodded bitterly. He was getting played, again. “What about intel? We got anything?”

“Our team has nothing on the surges. Foster’s missing. Selvig says Loki paid her a visit, right before Thor disappeared…”

“So we’ve lost all contact with Banner.” Fury muttered. “He’s taking down the whole fucking house.” Shield could do all-out war, but these mind games were not what they signed up for. Loki was making it real personal.

“I definitely smell that bullshit, Sir.”

He smiled. “Thank you, Agent Hill. It’s good to know I’m not the only one.” He sighed. “I don’t wanna say _‘I’m getting too old for this shit’_ , but…” he laughed “I really am getting too old for this shit!” he smirked at her. “Come on, let’s bring the motherfucker down.”

“Would that be motherfucking Stark, or motherfucking Loki?”

“The second one…” he paused “…and if I’ve got time, maybe the first.”

“Sir?” she asked.

“Yes, Agent?”

“If I were Loki, Sir, I’d be trying to split the agency up, spread resources out…”

“Are you talking about the Doc?” he asked. Damn, he was even picking up nicknames Stark used.

“Recently altered plans, a busy place; it’s an obvious target.”

Hill was right. He knew she was right.

_It was just…_

“I’d like to agree with you, but…there’s this feeling I just can’t shake. Like…” he shook his head “...like I should do the opposite of whatever I’m thinking. You get that? Because it’s just too clean, isn’t it? He’s not even trying to hide it. He might as well have sent us a goddamn invite.”

“What did the council say?”

“They’re divided on the issue. Most of ‘em trust my judgement until such time as we all get fucked over.” He leaned back against the wall. “At which point they will deny any involvement, and step in to save the fucking day.” He looked to her. “At that time, Agent Hill, I want you to make it very clear you were against my every decision, right down to which pair of socks I chose to wear that day. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir.” She replied. “But you’re making a huge mistake, Sir.”

He chuckled. “That’s more like it.”  
 

#### Part 4 – Always Selfish

Loki sighed against her back. He wished he could hold her. Feel the warmth of her across him. He wished he could do a great many things, but they would have to wait. He placed his arm over her, careful not to touch her skin. He imagined her waking, smiling, and embracing him, but that was by far the least likely reaction.

“Why are you doing this to me, Caitlyn?” he asked her, tenderly. “What did I ever do to deserve this?”

He stopped still as she turned in her sleep, facing him. Her face was drawn soft and close to smiling; peaceful.

“You have my heart.” He whispered. “For all such a thing is worth.”

Something so cold might freeze her gentle hands.

“You splinter me, love.” He breathed. It really was _so very_ cruel. He had been trapped from the start.

The blinded cameras in the room stared at him; such a pitiful thing. Loki, God of Lies; who lay beside such a creature, begging for forgiveness, for love. _It seemed the Norns had a sense of humour_.

He might have laughed, but to laugh could make for weeping.

His phone buzzed silently in his pocket. He should have left, but he could not bear it. Not yet.

“Yes?” he answered in a whisper.

_“No change. He’s not backing down.”_ The voice replied.

Loki smiled. “No matter.” He had not expected any different. His foe was no fool. “Keep me informed.”

_“Yes, Sir.”_

The phone cut out. He sighed. He would have preferred _‘Yes, My Lord’_ , but perhaps it was a little impractical when such things could be overheard. He glanced over to the dress that hung in her wardrobe.

“You will look beautiful.” He smiled to her.

_He should leave, but…just one moment more._

One more moment endangered all his plans. One more moment risked ruining everything.

Well, he always had been selfish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you song-spotting, there are a couple of references in there:  
> Part 1 - "Key Entity Extraction I: Domino the Destitute" by Coheed and Cambria  
> Part 2 - "Arlandria" by Foo Fighters  
> Part 4 - "Trapped" by LAB
> 
> Nick Fury currently has no theme tune, just the sound of his own badass-ness.
> 
> Let me know what you think!  
> x Pinch


	27. Feeling Good

### Chapter 27 – Feeling Good

#### Part 1 – Sweet Dreams

_Flowers and sweet berries…laughter…a warm hand…_

_Safe, warm and loved._

_Here._

_Always here._

Loki awoke to the sensation of his buzzing phone, and found something far kinder: her hand resting upon him. Her hair spread in waves that lapped against him; a scent of foreign flowers that had permeated his dreams.

It was nearly dawn. _He must leave._

But she looked so peaceful, so still. She seemed to smile as she held him. What was this, if not loving embrace? She did not scream or weep. She did not fight. She did not run. She held him gently, and lay at his side.

_Why must she torture him so?_

Everything he had ever wanted, all he had ever dreamed seemed to pale into insignificance. Long-held plans had altered, hopes for a future so drastically changed…and she seemed not to care. She did not even care what she did to him. He could never be so cruel as that. If she had confessed the same to him, he would have taken pity on her. He would have considered the pleas of a desperate creature, who only wished to worship at his feet. How much better it would have been; if their wills had been reversed.

His fingers toyed with strands of her hair. Soft as spun silk. How he longed to wake her with a kiss…to bury himself deeply in her…

_He must go._

His body refused to move. At her touch, he was paralysed. He never slept, except with her beside him. But he had felt calm, at peace. She was so delicate, so dangerous a thing…

The phone desperately buzzed, for the second time.

He sighed inwardly, slowly slipping from her embrace. He let her hand fall into the pillow, and he placed a soft kiss upon her knuckles. It would not be long, and then all of this foolishness would be brought to an end.

“Soon, love.” He whispered.

He stepped back, to the space between, and left her sleeping soundly.  
 

#### Part 2 – Eyes of the Redeemer

_Eyes. Eyes watching. He is always watching. He sees all. His eyes are in the parchment, and He sees into your soul. He is the Redeemer. He is the Everything._

The scholar stared into the tracings he had made, and the eyes looked back. They watched his every movement. They watched his thoughts. They took things out, and They put things in. They told him secrets.

_The Eyes tell secrets. Secrets not for you. They know you are not worthy._

“He says I am worthy.” The scholar whispered. “He says…”

_He lies._

“No! It is not true!” The scholar shut his eyes closed, so his soul could no longer be seen. “He wishes me to do this, and then he will be pleased. I will please God.”

As soon as the scholar looked again, the eyes knew, and spoke to him.

_And he shall reward you, with praise and kindness. These are lies. You are unworthy. You shall have pain. You shall have death._

“I will please God.” The scholar muttered, rocking in place. “I will please him, and I will share in God’s love.”

_Your god is not of love. Your god is of suffering and falsehood. Your god brands you with the mark of a slave, of cattle. You are not worthy._

“Stop!” he begged them, scattering papers across the floor until the eyes vanished.

This was the longest he had been able to stand looking. He took deep sighing breaths and wrote down all he could still remember:

_‘Lies fall to Truths._

_Wisdom falls to Love._

_Strength falls to Weakness._

_The Fourth God…the Fourth God…’_

It was gone, gone again, as was the reason for his fear. He could no longer remember the cause, only a deep sickness that spread beneath his skin. There was something dark creeping inside him. Deep down inside… _where the monsters live…not worthy…poisoned inside…_

No, no no no. Not real…not true. Everything would be fine.

He smiled.

Everything would be good.

God was coming.

The scholar bent low, almost to the floor. God liked it when he did that. When he did what God liked, then God was happy. Wonderful things happened when God was happy. Sometimes it was words of praise, sometimes a touch…to feel God’s fingertips against his skin…to be one of the cherished…and sometimes, the best times, God showed him things.

He had seen a wonderful glittering palace of gold, where God sat on high, and all bowed before him; a terrible war, in which God vanquished wicked monsters using wits and cunning; the great army that God would lead, to rid the universe of the evil ones; and his favourite of all: the world made free.

Free from thought. Free from choice. Free from freedom.

It was Earth made Free.

And it was Good.

_Stolen…_

The scholar trembled slightly as he heard the voice from nowhere, right before reality opened and God appeared.

“What do you have for me?” God asked.

He didn’t dare to look until he was ordered. He merely searched for his notes, and read them with shaking hands. “ _That which blooms in winter, whose bud is white, will slay The Pure God._ ” He read from the notes he had made earlier. “The…uh…the _‘Pure God’_ , is often the title given when referring to…”

“Lord Baldur; yes, I am aware.” God nodded. He seemed to be smiling. “Anything more precise?”

Smiling. Pleased. “ _The Pure God becomes blackness and rot. As with all._ ”

God laughed. “That _is_ good! None could be more deserving.”

“I…” the scholar stumbled “…I have pleased you, my Lord?” he asked hopefully.

“Somewhat.” God replied pleasantly. “Any other prophecy?”

The scholar bit his lip. “I am trying, my Master, but…but I…” he felt tears threatening to break free “…it is incomplete, and I cannot…”

“These things take time…” God placed a forgiving hand on his unworthy head. “Have patience, child.”

This time he did weep. He had thought to be thrashed, but this unexpected kindness…

“Hush now.” His voice was full of light. “You find me among the highest of spirits. Answer me a question, well as you can, and you shall have a reward.” Fingers stroked his hair, softly so.

“I…I…” his jaw began to ache from smiling. His eyes were swollen from tears of joy. “Anything, Master. Anything I know…or can learn to know.”

“Good.” God’s smile was drawn wide. He tilted the scholar’s head so that their eyes met. God’s glittering green eyes…

For one fraction of a moment, the scholar was deeply afraid, without knowing any reason why. And then it passed, like all fleeting thoughts.

“Tell me what you know of creatures; women, who can control others through song.”

“Sire, I…” the scholar shook his head. “I apologise. My training was not…I only know of Norse mythology.” He felt himself falling on the inside.

God was disappointed. God was angry. God turned his face from him.

“I have a colleague who knows more of Greek mythology than I…perhaps…”

“What?” a smile began to grace his lips.

The scholar stumbled, feeling so very foolish. “Well, the Odyssey…” He glanced to his walls for some form of comfort, some useful text. “…the Sirens.”

God laid a kiss upon his head.

He was pleased, and all was Good.

   


#### Part 3 – Idle Minds

Caitlyn didn’t dare to say it, but, she felt good. When she woke up she was unusually calm and refreshed. She hadn’t had the nightmares, but had instead dreamt of bramble crumble. She couldn’t even remember the last time she had eaten brambles, but she swore she could taste them.

She smiled at her reflection in the mirror. It was utterly ridiculous, all of this. She should have been on the wards, filling out paperwork or trying to cannulate a screaming toddler. She should have been coping with sick or blood or pus or any combination of other bodily fluids. Instead she was trying to figure out how to work her eyelash curlers.

“Fuck it.” She shrugged, tossing the contraption aside. She then suddenly realised that it was a fire hazard and scrambled to find the off switch.

She half expected Tony Stark to start snarking off, then she remembered he was gone. Off to try to fix his relationship by grovelling for whatever way he had cocked it all up. She wished him luck, the bipolar mess that he was; he was one bad fight away from OD’ing in a bathtub in Abu Dhabi or flying his rocket-suit into the sun.

Oh, she wished she didn’t feel so good, so calm, because like this she had a chance to think. It was easier when she buried herself in work and despair, because she didn’t see the shit piling up in the outside world. She could be _Doctor Black_ , being a doctor was easy. She was good at it. She did it day in and day out, and that was always fine. Even on a bad day she was still a good doctor. But _Caitlyn_ ; that was really one mess she didn’t want to deal with.

She scrubbed off the latest attempt at finding the right shade of lipstick. What did it really matter? She was a human, she possessed two lips. They were there whether she coloured them in or left them alone. She stood in front of the mirror, straightening out the fabric of her dress. She looked… _nice_ , she supposed. The blue-grey-whatever dress looked _nice_ on her. Her hair was up, and looked sort of… _nice_. But she was definitely thinner than she remembered. Paler too. That was probably all the work-outs she had done when she was locked up inside her own home. And the night shifts on no food. And the day shifts on no food. And the days off, when she hadn’t really eaten either.

She supposed she looked more sophisticated like this, but in her own eyes she just looked unhealthy. She had liked it when she was on the cusp of overweight; not fat, but just more _full_. Her lips had been plumper, her cleavage deeper, and when she smiled…well, she used to smile more. Maybe that was more to do with her current circumstances.

_‘Loki’s back.’_ She had been informed by one of the Shield agents. That was it. She hadn’t really wanted to know any more than that, even if they had been willing to tell her. She didn’t want to know who he’d hurt or how badly. It was too much. She couldn’t stop the feeling of guilt. Then she beat herself up for feeling guilty about what _he’d_ done.

But more than that, _worse_ than that, she…she thought about the way he had made her feel. Not always, and not for long, but she did think about it. It was easier to ignore those kind of thoughts when you were covered in blood or buried in textbooks, but this idleness…Her hand drifted across her stomach, and it was almost as though he was there. When she closed her eyes, she imagined he was watching her. Her hand drifted lower and…

_No. What the fuck are you doing?_

Her eyes snapped open.

_Come on Caitlyn! You are not about to masturbate while being watched by half a dozen Shield Agents! And not about him. No matter how hot he was. Is. Whatever. He’s still a serial killer._

_Or is it mass murderer?_ She pondered. She had watched a documentary years ago, and couldn’t quite remember what the definition was. Something about the number of people in one location…anyway, not the thing to focus on.

She smiled at her reflection, trying to perfect the: _‘No, honestly, I’m completely fine, and in no way psychologically scarred’_ face.

Nope. Wasn’t happening.

Emergency Vodka it would have to be. 

 

#### Part 4 – A Mechanic

Tony Stark stared at Pepper’s front door. He was just a couple of inches away, but that felt a whole lot farther right now. It would be so easy to just get out of there; to not face anything, at all. After all, Tony Stark was great at running away from his problems.

It seemed like Tony Stark was also great at referring to himself in the third person.

The warm Miami night coated him in a kind of choking heat. No, more like drowning. Definitely like drowning. He tried to go over everything in his head, remembering how _well_ that had worked the last time, but thinking about it made it seem so much harder. For a second he wanted to turn and drive away. For a second, just a second, he thought about giving up on everything, and just doing what came naturally.

But, fuck it.

“Hey, Pep? You gonna open this door or what?” he shouted as he banged on the heavy wooden door, staring into a state-of-the-art Stark Biometric Security Camera (trademark).

Eventually the door whirred and clicked, and opened about half a foot before the chain stopped it. She stood, arms folded, dressed in a white bath-robe, and her strawberry-blonde hair in a puffy mess. “Tony, I can’t deal with you right now…it’s like five in the morning. I’ve got a meeting tomorrow, well, today, actually…”

“Honey. You look so beautiful right now.” Tony said with all sincerity.

“Are you high?”

“No, I…!” he shouted as she began to close the door. “Pep? Pep, can we just talk?” Tony begged.

She sighed, undoing the chain and letting him in. “What is it Tony?”

He moved quickly, before she had a chance to kick him out. “I’m just gonna say this one thing, ok? And then I’m done, I’m gone. You don’t need to see me anymore if you don’t want to.” He held her hands in his own. “Please Pep, just listen.”

“Tony…” She rolled her heavy eyes. “Alright.”

He tried to make it sound all poetic, and warm and fuzzy, but he couldn’t do it. He wasn’t a poet. He was just a mechanic, after all. “I’m sorry…I’m real sorry I nearly died on you.”

It hurt to say it out loud, more than he had expected. His eyes were stinging, and he felt like his throat was closing up.

“It wasn’t fair, and you didn’t ask for any of this. Back in New York…I thought it was just me, but it wasn’t; I belong to you, Pep, and when I went through the wormhole I took a little piece of you away and…I hurt you, and…I’m sorry.” He finally stopped for breath.

“Tony…”

“I’m sorry, honey. I really am. And honestly? If you’d done that to me, I’d still be too pissed off to forgive you.” He smiled. “Even if you’d just travelled twelve hundred miles to apologise.”

That was it. That had always been it. Even from the start, she had always been terrified of what Iron Man would mean. She cared so much about him, and he just never stopped risking his life. How many times had he been close to death? Maybe nine or ten, and that was just since Afghanistan. He didn’t know, or maybe didn’t want to know, just how much it was hurting her. But there it was; the fight they weren’t having. The one where he risked his life, and she’d never got a say.

Her eyes brimmed with tears, and she pounded his chest with closed fists. “Don’t you dare do that to me again.”

“Honey, I promise; if I die on you again, you can pack your bags and go anywhere you want.”

“Stop trying to make me laugh!” she spluttered through her weeping. “You stupid, selfish man. I thought…I thought you weren’t coming back.”

“I know.” He held her close. “I know, hon.” He would have kissed her forehead, had it not been a good few inches taller than him.

“You can’t imagine what it was like; like someone tore out my heart.” Her voice broke as she sobbed.

He couldn’t hold back a little smile. “Well, come on Pep, I think I know a little bit what that’s like…”

She finally burst into laughter, tears still streaming. “You’re an asshole, Tony Stark.”

“Yeah, but I’m your asshole.” He grinned.

“Shut up.”

“You gonna kiss this asshole, or what?”

“You’re disgusting.” she groaned.

“Come on. Bend down and kiss your asshole. I know you do yoga for a reason.”

She smiled despite herself, and kissed his lips.

“That was really gross.” He smiled, stroking back her crazy-lady hair. “You’re all mucus-ey.”

“Shut up!” she shoved him back, still smiling.

“I think you got snot on my face.”

She wrapped her arms around him, and held him. “I hate you so much, Tony Stark.”

“Yeah, that’s what all the girls say.” He beamed back at her. “So are we going to bed now? I haven’t got laid in like _forever_.”

“I have work, and…” she complained in her not-right-now-Tony voice.

“Cancel.” He interrupted her, mid-sentence. “You’re the boss, and the great thing about being the boss is that you get to cancel meetings for more important stuff…like a late-night booty-call.”

“And that’s important?” she gave him a knowing smirk.

“Yeah. Pretty sure I had it written into the contracts. Along with red lace panties.”

“I’m not wearing red lace panties, Tony.”

“I am.” He grinned.

“You are not.” Her face was deadpan.

He shrugged. “Well, there’s only one way we’re gonna find out…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, kind of a scatter-brained chapter, but at least Tony stopped being a dick for two seconds. :)
> 
> Please let me know what you think.
> 
>  
> 
> P.S. For maximum Pepper-Tony feels, I suggest "The Afterman" by Coheed and Cambria, in combination with Tony's through the wormhole scene in Avengers.


	28. Dance with the Devil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter contains a questionable level of smut because reasons. :P
> 
> Song is "Wie es Geht" by Die Ärzte, which can be found here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aY8jplkaSq4
> 
> Enjoy!

### Chapter 28 – Dance with the Devil

#### Part 1 – How it Goes

“And this is the low-key event for close friends and family?” Caitlyn teased Stephano as he attached a veiled fascinator to her hair. “Masks and ballgowns? When did this all come together?”

He grinned. “Unlike you, Caitlyn, I only plan to get married once. It’s got to be spectacular.” He fussed about until it was sitting just-so. “There. You know; if I was straight, I’d definitely do you.”

“You incurable romantic, you.”

“I know.” He giggled. “By the way, that security guy keeps staring at you…”

She glanced over at the Shield agent. “He has to. That’s his job.”

“Not the way he’s doing it…” Stephano smiled.

“Stephano, it is not your mission in life to get me laid.”

“Of course it is.” He waved his hand in front of her face. “I’m married now. I have to do something. And David says the easiest way to get into Jewish heaven is by setting someone up.”

“And you think that’s going to counteract all the gay sex?”

Stephano giggled. “Hey, if God didn’t want me to have gay sex, he shouldn’t have made it so much fun.” He handed her a microphone. “So, are you ready for this?”

She downed half a glass of tequila. “I think I might be sick.”

“Then you should stop drinking.” He grabbed the glass from her hand and placed it on the table. “And don’t worry. You’ve got this veil hiding your face; it’s like you’re invisible.” He pulled down on the edge of the veil. “What is it you tell the Chemo kids?”

“…any idiot can be fearless. The bravest people are the ones who are afraid, and do it anyway.” She muttered with some hesitation. “Just promise if I pass out you’ll keep Dr Walters away from me. I don’t want to wake up with an arterial line in my lung.”

“I promise; I’ll keep him away from the pointy things.” Stephano straightened his waistcoat with a small smile. “Thanks Caitlyn.”

“Yeah, whatever.” She smiled back, taking a few shaking breaths. Then, slowly, she opened the curtain.

_Showtime._

“Hello everyone.” She spoke into the microphone, glad her long dress could hide her trembling legs. “Stephano wanted to do something special for you all tonight, especially David.” She could feel the tequila creeping its way up her oesophagus as they stared at her.

_Invisible. Just a voice._

“So, this is _‘How it Goes’_.” She smiled to the sea of masked faces, the corners of her vision threatening to dim. But then she closed her eyes and listened to the guitar, and imagined being alone on wind-battered cliffs. She heard their cheer as Stephano emerged, undoubtedly beaming. She thought of David in the audience.

_Just think about them. Think about how happy they make each other._

The drums kicked in.

“Woo hoo!” She and Stephano sang in unison, if not quite in harmony. When she opened her eyes she saw the boundless, stupid love pouring out of him for the man he loved.

_Fuck your fear. Fuck your inhibitions. You’re doing this, and you’re doing it for them._

“Woo hoo!” they repeated, this time more in tune, and earning a cheer.

She smiled to herself. She focused on that feeling, that amazing love that they had, and the German lyrics rolled off her tongue like she had been born speaking them.

> _“Bitte geh noch nicht. Ich weiß es ist schon spat_
> 
> _Ich will dir noch was sagen, ich weiß nur nicht, wie es geht”_

_Please don’t go yet. I know it’s already late._

_I want to tell you something, I just don’t know how it goes._

   


#### Part 2 – With Hands Tied to the Wheel

Loki had to fight every impulse in his body not to go to her. He gripped firmly onto one of the building’s supporting beams, holding himself in place in the darkened crowd.

_Why sing like this, if not for him?_

_Why make him this, if not because she wished it so?_

Cruel creature. Wonderful creature.

_Siren._

He couldn’t do a thing but wait, finding himself entirely trapped in place. He could only listen to that all-pervading voice; watch that shining form who glowed, bathed in all light. He could almost see the sound dance around her.

> _“Bitte geh noch nicht. Am besten gehst du nie_
> 
> _Ich habs dir schon so oft gesagt in meiner Fantasie”_

_Please do not go yet. It would be best if you never did._

_I have told you so often in my fantasies._

> _“Bleib noch ein bisschen hier. Bitte geh noch nicht_
> 
> _Was ich versuche, dir zu sagen, ist: Ich liebe dich”_

_Stay here a little longer. Please do not go yet._

_What I am trying to say is: I love you._

Loki smiled down to his soul, at once feeling such peace and such turmoil. Like being cast into an endless ocean and sinking, sinking ever deeper…in the most wonderful way.

It was at that precise moment he knew he was damned.

Damned to Hel, damned to love her, and damned to be grateful for it.

And nothing else mattered.

He would have her. Nothing else mattered.

Nothing in any realm could ever matter so much. 

 

#### Part 3 – Dance with the Devil

Caitlyn smiled as she descended the stage with tequila-fuelled courage, then made for somewhere far away with a lot more to drink. At least, that was the plan…right up until a pale hand wrapped around her wrist.

“Dance with me.”

_John…No. Loki._

_Here._

“Loki? What the hell…?” she hissed, glancing around for the suspiciously absent Shield security.

“If you do not wish to cause a scene, I suggest you refrain from using my name again.” he warned with that superior smirk. His black hair perfectly hung at his shoulders, framing his sharp features…

_And what the fuck is he wearing?_

She had to consciously control the volume of her voice. “ _Me_ cause a scene? Half the world is out looking for you, and you’re…?!” She didn’t have quite the words to describe the metal and leather suit. _‘Crazy’_ and _‘bondage-gear’_ came to mind. “And you’re the only one without a fucking mask? Are you actually insane?”

_Why aren’t you fighting? Why aren’t you trying to run? Why aren’t you afraid, Caitlyn?_

“Ah.” He smiled. “If I may…” he wrapped one hand around her waist, and with the other lifted the veil from over her eyes.

She gasped.

“Good, isn’t it?” he smirked. Or rather, _she_ smirked. Loki wasn’t so much Loki, as a six-foot-something busty woman in a slinky black dress and a green mask.

“Oh, this will do nothing for my reputation.” She muttered.

He smiled, letting the veil fall, and once more showing his true self. “Now, if you wish, as I do, for this to be a _civilised_ occasion, you will do as I say.” He held out his hand for hers. “I can wait, Caitlyn.”

She decided to comply, hating just how securely her hand fit within his. How her heart still raced to his touch.

_This isn’t right. You shouldn’t feel like this._

“Very good.” He smiled. “Come, now. I do not ask for much. I just want to talk with you. I…” he shook his head, beaming “…I have missed you.”

“For fuck’s sake.” She muttered.

“What?”

“You can’t…do this.” She tried to ignore the charge within her, pulling her to him; the craving.

He smirked. “I think I can.”

She tried to make more distance between them. “You can’t just…” she winced as his hand tightened around her waist “…you are a murderer!”

“Not recently.” He shrugged.

“Oh. Well that’s alright then.” She replied, giving her best fake-smile.

“Caitlyn.” He sighed, staring at her with a dazed smile. “I swear. Not since I have met you.”

“You put a bomb in a fucking hospital!” she hissed.

“And not long ago I would have used it. But I…” he shook his head “…I find…”

She cut him off before he could finish the sentence. “You know, I should have known this would be you.” She gritted her teeth. “Stephano and David would never have gone for something so tacky.”

“Tacky?” He looked at her as though she were a sulky child.

“This isn’t them. With all the Ballgowns, and the masks, and…oh, god, it’s all so gaudy. It’s like Versailles threw up in here.”

“That is not what you said earlier.” He countered, spinning her against him.

“I was being polite.” She hissed. “I’m a fucking nice person. It’s what I do.”

He smiled at her with that fucking smile. “Oh, but I do not think you are. I think you are trying so very hard to be _‘nice’_ , to be good, but deep inside, you…” he pressed her against him, letting her feel him hardening. “You and I are not so different.” He whispered into her ear. “I know what you _crave_. What makes you feel _alive_.”

She fought against the blushing of her cheeks.

“If you are good to me, I might give you what you desire.” He smirked, dropping to a murmur. “If not, I might take it.”

“You are so full of it.” She spoke through gritted teeth.

“Tell me what you want. Your deepest desire.” He breathed against her neck, making her skin tingle.

“World peace?” she offered.

He smiled. “I can do that.”

“I really don’t think I want to see your version of world peace.” She muttered “I get the impression it involves thumb-screws.”

He turned her again, bringing her to face him. “I can shape this world to the way you would wish it.” His face was twisted into that bright-eyed, idealistic stare. “You need only ask.”

_He should look different. Why doesn’t he look different? Why does he still remind you of the first time you met?_

The tempo of the music changed, becoming something slow and sultry. “God, no.” she shuddered.

He ignored her, effortlessly pulling her in. “Do you know what your name means, Caitlyn?” Loki purred, holding her close as they swayed.

“Lazy people would rather stick two names together than fight?” she replied sarcastically.

He gripped tighter, making her breath catch. “It means; the pure waterfall. Rather perfect, don’t you think?” his voice dropped as they swept past another pair of dancers.

“Perfect for what?”

“For what you are…” he smirked. “Oh, what is this? You don’t know?”

She hated to see that smug smile of his. “What? A giant salmon? Fuck off, Mystic Meg.”

He glared and tightened his grip on her. “If you insist on acting like a petulant child, you will be treated like one.” He threatened low.

“And if you act like an adolescent prick?” she replied sweetly.

He grabbed her firmly and dragged her out of the room, past confused masked dancers, through a long and empty corridor. They turned the first corner he found. “Why are you doing this? Why must you be so…?”

“Defiant? Obstinate? Antagonistic?” she suggested. “Maybe, just maybe it’s because I don’t like you, you murdering son of a bitch!” She felt a charge run through her. All the words she’d been meaning to scream at him. All the ways she’d wanted to get back at him for what he’d done. It was all bubbling to the surface.

He glared fiercely at her, and she matched him. Without warning, his lips met hers with violent lust, and for a brief flickering moment she returned it.

She pulled away, then slapped him hard across the face.

At that he smirked and kissed her again; this time pinning her to the wall, his hand to her throat. He was rock-hard against her, and grinning wildly.

And she hated…she _hated_ that she loved it. She bit down on his lip, and slid her still stinging hand over his ridiculous armour. _Honestly; who wears a fucking cape?_ She grasped the bulge of his cock and made him groan loudly. She would have told him how absurd he was, had his tongue not been in her mouth, and his hand not ever-so-slightly choking her.

His free hand grasped her hair, pulling firmly.

As the veil fell from her eyes, she had the uncomfortable moment of realising that she was currently palming an ostensibly female cock. Illusionary breasts seemed to press up against her with such realism that she had to close her eyes to remember they weren’t really there.

_This is so fucking weird._

“Do not _dare_ close your eyes!” Loki growled, biting her jaw. “You will see me however I wish you to!”

When Caitlyn opened her eyes again, her dress was unceremoniously bunched around her waist, underwear pushed aside; and Loki, once more appearing as Loki, was wearing some kind of ceremonial helmet along with his armour and cape. Suddenly, painfully, he forced his length into her. She cried out as pleasure seized her, the noise slightly stifled by his grip.

He lifted her legs to wrap around his waist, and he ground her against the wall.

She felt that white hot energy, as she started breaking down from the inside. Thoughts left her. Fears vanished. Her hands drifted up the wall in some kind of obscene prayer.

Loki watched her as he thrust, his green eyes darkening. His thin lips twinged into a smile when he made her moan. He still held her throat, softer, his long fingers tracing across her lips, making her suck on his fingertips.

That was the wonderful thing about fucking him; the way he used her, so blatantly, so completely. And all she had to do was comply. She didn’t have to think. She didn’t have to _be_ anything anymore. All she needed was to _feel_ …everything that he wanted her to.

_Like being fucked by ketamine._

He kissed her, his tongue invading her mouth as he captured her moans. His pace was becoming more erratic, wild. This time he groaned, giving over completely when she came, trembling and raw. For a moment the two of them were still and silent. He released her throat, and lowered her to her feet. He smiled, stroking her hair, kissing her so softly. “Yes. This is what you want; what I want.” He let her hands seek him out. “Oh, I love you, Caitlyn, but you must not do this…”

_No._

She started, suddenly awake. “Get away from me.”

“What?” he stared.

“I said get the hell away from me.” She shook as she spoke.

“Because I told you that I love you?” he asked, incredulous. He stepped back as she pushed against him, but not enough to let her free. “You do not make sense.”

“ _Love?_ You fucking snake. You don’t love. You can’t love. You can only possess. I will not be your possession!” She hissed. “I know what you are, and you fucking disgust me.”

He eyed her, displaying a facsimile of confusion and hurt. Good. She wanted to hurt him. He deserved it.

“You know what’s worst about you? It’s not the lies you tell, or the way you hurt everyone around you; it’s all the good that you _could_ do. But you don’t. You don’t even fucking try, because it’s easier this way. It’s just so…” she tried to search for the word. Something like: _disappointing_.

“Stop this. Now.” He warned. “I do not know what has gotten into you, but…”

“Clarity.” She replied. “If it helps, you can imagine it as a _clear waterfall_.”

“Now, you listen to me!” he gripped her wrist and pulled her sharply towards him. “I will not be without you.” Every word was punctuated and snarling.

“Let go! Let go of me!” she screamed.

And then, something very strange happened. He almost fell back, and disappeared into thin air. She felt for a moment relieved. Then the reality of her situation suddenly crept up on her.

_Shit._

_What have you done, Caitlyn?_

That sick feeling crawled up her throat.

_You just fucked and pissed-off a malignant narcissist with superpowers._

_He told you he loved you, and you rejected him. Do you have a fucking death-wish?_

This was bad. This was very bad. That was probably the worst possible thing she could have done. And now she’d never be safe. He was going to make her pay for it. And she…she let him fuck her…even knowing what he was, she let him fuck her again! She shuddered as she remembered she still had his come inside her. She probably had bruises on her neck too.

_What have you done, Caitlyn?_

She stumbled slightly as she tried to walk, feeling that familiar sting.

_Who’s going to pay for what you’ve done?_  

 

#### Part 4 – One for the Road

Tony smiled and rolled over in Pepper’s bed. “Honestly, we should fight more.” He grinned between breaths.

Pep turned and leaned over the side of the bed.

“Woah, I like the enthusiasm, but give a man a chance…!” Tony laughed.

“No, it’s… my phone…” she searched the floor until she finally managed to retrieve it. She glanced at the flashing screen. “Why does Nick Fury want to know where you are?”

“Yeah, sorry about that; I should’ve told you to turn yours off too. I’m kinda AWOL at the moment. Just ignore it.” He shuffled over to her and tried to take the phone from her hand.

“Tony…” she sighed, then abruptly sat upright. “Tony, what the hell is this?! LOKI?”

“Um…”

“Loki?! As in ‘Loki, the guy who destroyed half of New York’?!”

“Well, not the good half…”

“Tony, when were you going to tell me that _this_ was what you were working on?” she pushed him off her. She started to grab his clothes from the floor, throwing them onto the bed.

“Come on, honey…” he pleaded with her. “I would’ve told you eventually…maybe after another go round…?” he offered.

“Get dressed. Now.” She was not taking any shit.

Tony groaned and pulled on his pants. “It’s not like he’s fucking doing anything. Just being vaguely creepy…”

“And who is _‘Doctor Black’_?” Pep glared as she pulled on her bath-robe.

He shrugged on his crumpled shirt. “The Doc? She…kinda…saved my life…” he really didn’t like admitting that one out loud. “…sorta. I mean, I wasn’t like _‘dying’_ dying. Just, you know, a couple weeks in intensive care kinda thing.”

“Tony!” Pep shouted. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this?! This is exactly the kind of thing…!”

“Sorry?” He smiled sheepishly, sitting on the side of the bed. “Full disclosure, I promise, starting now…but can’t we just…?” he indicated to the messed-up sheets “You know? For the road?”

“Get out, Tony. Now.”

“I had a really nice time, Pepper. And like you said, you forgave me…” He smiled as he backed away. “And we can’t take those things back, even if, for some _crazy_ reason…”

“Tony!” she shouted, pointing to the front door.

He made an abrupt exit. “I love you, Pep!” he called to her through the rapidly closing front door. “I promise; we’ll schedule some time in-between crises!”

The door slammed shut in front of him.

_Worth it. Totally worth it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked the chapter.
> 
> Apologies if my translation wasn't great. I'm not a German speaker, so I used lyricstranslate.com.
> 
> You guys are awesome. Please let me know your thoughts. :)
> 
> x Pinch


	29. Among Friends and Company

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A pretty violent chapter here.
> 
> Skip part 1 to avoid graphic violence (and Loki just being generally psychotic). You'll pretty much get the gist from part 2.

### Chapter 29 – Among Friends and Company

#### Part 1 – Proud

Loki glared down at her as she knelt before him. Her hair fell forwards over her face, hiding her expression. “Look at me!” he ordered, forcing her chin upwards.

She looked…afraid.

He struck her across the face, feeling her skin sting against his palm. “What have you to say, mortal bitch?!” he spat. “Will you beg my forgiveness?!” He could feel rage taking his voice, but he no longer cared. “Will you lie at my feet, echoing sweet platitudes, you deceitful whore?!” He struck her again, this time having to hold her upright so she did not fall. “Speak!” he drew a knife to her throat. “Speak now, or may you never do so again!”

“I’m sorry.” The words tumbled weakly from her lips. “I’m sorry, Loki.” A tear trickled down her cheek.

“You think this will save you?!” He asked, bringing the blade up to catch the droplet. How he despised the sight of a weeping woman.

“Please. Forgive me.” She spluttered. She was breathing faster, her chest heaving. “I’ll do anything. I’ll be whatever you want.”

He snarled, casting her head to the floor. It rebounded with a slick crack. “You are not her.” he hissed.

As she lay bleeding the illusion shifted, once again revealing Agent Hill’s face. Her hands slipped in her own blood as she tried to raise herself upright.

He briefly cursed the cruel bitch who had done this to him; she who had mired him in such impotent rage. He stamped upon Agent Hill’s chest as she made to stand. “I see you have begun to regain your will.” He glared. “No matter. I would rather hurt you like this.”

Although she tried not to react, she winced slightly as a rib cracked beneath his boot. Once he let up the pressure, she responded with a hissing “Yes, sir.”

“This is _your_ fault.” His words bit sharply. “Shield, all of you, you have brought this on yourselves!” He kicked her in the side, sliding her through a trail of her own blood. “Do you see? This is not my will, oh no. This is yours and yours alone! You…!” he snarled as he stamped on her wrist. “You have turned her against me!” he found himself shouting. “I will not have you take from me what is MINE!” He kicked her in her side, then knelt down and wrapped his hand around her throat.

Her eyes bulged like some trapped wild creature, trying to draw its final breaths.

A fierce pounding began at the door. _“Agent Hill! Are you alright?”_

Loki loosened his grip, daring her to answer.

_“Agent Hill?”_ the man persisted.

“Fine!” she croaked, not quite loud enough for them to hear.

Loki hissed in her ear. “If he enters, his life is forfeit.”

“I’m fine!” she desperately cried against his choking grasp. It was not loud enough, it seemed.

“What a pity.” Loki whispered to her as the door swung open.

The Shield agent stood in the doorway, gun raised. “I need backup, now!” he shouted into his radio.

Loki stood, snarling. “You will need more than that!” He laughed as the first bullet bounced off his shoulder, barely grazing his skin.

The agent tried to back away, but Loki teleported behind him. A swift kick sent him forwards, face down onto the ground.

Loki stamped on his back, hearing bones crack.

“Oh my God.” Another voice spoke from the corridor.

Loki smiled. “Precisely.” He wrenched the next man’s arm from its socket, pulled him to the floor and placed his foot upon the torn shoulder. “Beg my mercy.” He ordered calmly. “Do it.”

A third agent ran to the door, at whom Loki cast a throwing knife. Hands clutched at the gushing neck as confusion crept across his face. As he coughed, blood sprayed from between his lips. He slipped down the wall without further complaint.

Loki summoned another knife, not wanting to sully his favourite blade with worthless blood. “Beg, mortal.” He felt a bullet collide with the back of his skull, and turned to stab his attacker. “A pity, Agent Hill.” He said as her body convulsed, the knife stuck between her ribs. “Try harder next time.”

She fell to the floor, shaking.

“Please…” the agent on the floor begged “I’ve got a wife, and two sons…”

Loki placed his boot upon the agent’s neck. “And they will be _so proud of you_.” 

 

#### Part 2 – In Company

Nick Fury stared through the observation window, seeing wires and tubes and a hundred fucking machines, not knowing what any of them meant. There was blood on the floors, each puddle seeming to seep into the one next to it.

“Goddamn it, Hill.” He muttered.

To say he wasn’t surprised when Loki appeared would have been wrong, but it was getting so that he just couldn’t get shocked by what that demi-god did anymore.

“You know, they asked me if she’d been in a car-crash.” Fury told him, still watching the medics rushing about. “Said they’d never seen bones break like that outside an RTA…” he finally turned to look at Loki. “…are you going to tell me what you’ve got on Agent Hill?”

Loki leant calmly against a desk. “I confess; I had expected somewhat more of a reaction from you.”

“I’m sorry, am I disappointing you?” Fury folded his arms. “Should I be running scared, or maybe pulling my gun?”

“Both would be foolish.”

“Then I hope you realise that I am no fool. So I’m going to ask you again; are you going to tell me what you’ve got on Agent Hill?”

Loki’s lips twitched into a brief smile. “Do you truly not fear me? Even after this?” he indicated to the four half-dead agents. “Very bold, Mr Fury.” He rapped his long fingers on the desk, the sound louder than it had a right to be.

Fury fake-smiled back at him. “I know, I know. You could kill me with a flick of your wrist, and I wouldn’t have enough time left to…whatever. But you won’t.”

“And why is that?” Loki spoke softly, calmly.

“Because you want to see me bury my family.” He looked back through the window, watching Hill on the ventilator. “I’m guessing you’re here because you don’t want your girlfriend finding out about all this.”

“You dare to threaten…” Loki began.

“Let me make it clear that I do not give a fuck.” Fury interrupted him. “I do not care about those bruises on Doctor Black’s neck. I do not care that those same bruises are now wrapped around my agent’s throat. I do not care what that means or why.” He stared at Hill. “I do, however, care that one of my best agents did not fight back when you beat her half to death. So, for the last time; will you tell me what you have on Agent Hill?”

“My, you are persistent!” Loki let out a slight exasperated laugh. “No, in short. But believe me, even if I told you, you could not hope to stop me.”

_Smug fucking bastard._

“You want me to tell you why you can’t win?” Fury asked the smirking god.

“Please. Enlighten me.”

“As long as I get you off my fucking planet, I will be satisfied. I do not care how that happens, or how many people have to die to get it done. But you?” Fury shook his head. “You don’t win by taking over the planet, or killing me, or getting the girl. No, a guy like you; a narcissist, you need everything. You need to win every time. You need all the cards to stack up right, and if one of them falls…you don’t get that victory. You’ll just be reminded of that one little failure, and it’ll eat you up inside that you weren’t smart enough or strong enough to get everything you wanted. And I personally guarantee that you will _never_ get everything you want. Because that is not how life works, even for a demi-god.”

Loki laughed. “You do not know me, Mr Fury.”

“I know a hundred guys just like you.” He walked towards Loki, backing the bastard down. “I bet I remind you of your daddy, huh?”

“Very astute, Nicholas.” Loki glared back at him, inches from his face. “Do I remind you of yours?”

“Hm.” Fury exhaled. “You would have made a damn good Shield Agent. If you weren’t so fucking crazy.”

Loki smiled at that. “And you might have made a formidable ally, if you had learned your place.”

“Yeah, well, _that’s_ never gonna happen.”

“I thought as much.” Loki stood straight. “We have an understanding then?”

“ _You_ have an understanding; that if you go after my family, and make things personal, I will retaliate in ways that are _very fucking personal_ to you.” Fury spat his words. 

“Careful, Mr Fury.” Loki spoke with a sneer. “You bare your darkness.”

Fury paced back to the window. “Must be the company.”  
 

#### Part 3 – Gifts

It had been how long? A day? The bruises were purple now, encircling her throat. But there were others too; on her back and thighs. Her head hurt…hell, everything hurt. She jumped at every shadow, and had been sick at least twice at the thought of it.

They knew. Of course they fucking new. Those Shield agents weren’t stupid. They had suggested taking her to a doctor, which she had point-blank refused. She didn’t another person judging her, or telling her how ‘strong’ she was, or how she wasn’t to blame. She hadn’t stopped him, she hadn’t even wanted to.

_You liked it._

She tied a silk scarf around her neck, stretching it to cover what concealer couldn’t.

_“Mam?”_ One of the agents knocked on her bedroom door, and let himself in. Security had been increased; now she didn’t even get her house to her fucking self.

“I told you not to call me that.” She replied bitterly. “And not to come into my room without permission.”

“You did, mam.” He replied. “Protocol.”

She nodded. She fucking hated protocol.

“Mam, you’ve got to come with us. Now.”

“Can I ask why?”

“You can ask, mam, but I can’t tell you.” The buzz-cut clone replied.

“What about where we’re going?”

“I can’t tell you, mam. Protocol.” He tried to give an apologetic smile.

She slammed her hand down on her table, wanting to just scream. “Do you feel sorry for me, Agent Smith?” she asked him.

He nodded. “Yes, mam. I do.” 

“Please don’t.” She told him.

He didn’t understand, of course. He just nodded apologetically.

The journey was long and silent, like every one with Shield agents at the wheel. Originally she tried to remember all the turns she couldn’t see through the blacked-out windows, but by the first half-hour she realised that wasn’t going to happen.

Her mind started to wander to the aching between her legs.

_Fucking whore._

“I’m sorry, are we nearly there yet?” she asked the agents.

_“Soon, mam.”_ One replied through the speaker.

She stared into nothing and tried to turn her mind to something…anything…causes of finger clubbing? Well, cystic fibrosis for one…

She was almost thankful when they lead her into another in the series of blank little rooms. This one having a small window, with heavy bars. The view was less than inspiring; at least a ten-floor drop out of what might have once been a council flat.

Director Fury entered the room cautiously, placing a small box on the table before her. “We intercepted this. It’s for you.”

Caitlyn opened the box, and before her rested an ornate filigree-faced watch on a long, thin chain. She turned it over in her hands; on the back there was an inscription: _to mark the lies and the truth_. She dropped it with a clatter, and fell into the chair, unable to breathe. Her hands were raised to her mouth, as if stifling a scream.

_He’s been watching you for a long time._

“I take it that means something to you.” Fury said calmly.

“The…lies of the day and the truths of the night…it’s something he said to me, before.” She breathed heavily, trying desperately to find more air. “I’m sorry…I can’t…”

“Dr Black. You need to tell me what this means.”

“I. Don’t. Know.” She trembled. “Please. Get this thing away from me. I can’t…”

_“It means he’s coming for her.”_ A voice spoke over the speaker system.

“Excuse me.” Fury grunted, stepping outside. He walked a few paces down the white hall to the improvised conference room, where Natasha Romanov was on videolink, along with several members of the council.

Stark irreverently tried to sneak in through the back door. “Hey guys, what’s up? What did I miss?”

_That’s the million-dollar fucking question._

“Loki sent Dr Black jewellery.” Fury stated.

“Romantic fucker.” Tony commented, snacking on a piece of toast.

_“No. He didn’t. He sent her a watch.”_ Natasha replied. _“It’s a threat. When you send someone a watch, it means that you want them to count down the minutes they have left.”_

“Maybe in _Soviet Russia_ …” Tony interjected.

Natasha ignored him. _“And she knows it.”_

“What difference does it make anyway?” Tony asked flippantly.

Fury sighed. “The council is trying to decide what the best use of our resources would be.”

“I see. So you’re trying to justify pulling out of this thing, despite the fact that old crazy-pants is sending threats by fed-ex now?”

_“Mr Stark.”_ One of the dimly lit faces buzzed. _“This is the first activity in weeks. We have no reason to suspect she is in any imminent danger, and besides the fact, she’s just…”_

“She’s just a normal person, so it doesn’t really matter?” Stark interrupted. “She’s no threat to you, so you don’t mind what happens? I mean, who cares if there’s one less _decent_ person in the world, right? Decent isn’t _useful_. And that’s all well and fine, as long as you keep your special little soldiers wrapped up nice and tight, with big-ass smiles on their faces and oil under a hundred dollars a barrel. You know, you are really pissing me off!”

“Stark. Stop. Now.” Fury ordered him.

“Who the fuck is running this thing, anyway? For all we know these guys could be fucking _working_ for Loki. And, I mean, why the hell not? From here it looks like we’ve already decided to give him everything he fucking wants!”

“Stark!” Fury shouted.

“No, you know what; you don’t need to worry about your _resources_ , because I’ll use my own. Because unlike you I think that the guy who blew up half of New York and threw me out of _a fucking window_ is a credible threat.”

“Stark, that is enough!”

“You’re right. It is. I’m done here. I made a promise, and I’m not going to let you guys make me a liar. Not for all the special gold stars you could put on my Avengers club card.” Stark stormed out of the conference room.

Caitlyn jumped when he opened the door.

“Shit, Doc.” That was all Tony felt equipped to say. “I leave for one day, and everything goes to hell?”

She nodded a little, turning the watch over in her hands. “…you don’t happen to have a flat-head screwdriver, do you?”

“Um, yeah, I think…” he rummaged around in his pockets, finally locating it.

“Thanks.” She replied, taking the screwdriver from him, and scraping at the back of the watch.

“I don’t think that…” Tony offered.

She gave up on picking it open, and set it down on the table. Without warning she smashed the screwdriver through the glass face of the watch, over and over. Soon the whole thing came open, cogs scattering. She stabbed at it still, spilling machinery until it was nothing but an empty case. She walked over to the window, and slipping her hand between the bars, she forced it open a crack, and tossed the remains of the watch. She turned and calmly returned the screwdriver.

“So…You need a drink?” Tony asked.

“Yes, Tony. I need a drink.”

   


#### Part 4 – Friends

“So…” Tony stared into his bottle. “Shitty day, huh?”

“You have no idea.” She replied, sighing.

“Come on, Doc. At least it can’t get any worse.”

“You want to bet?” she grimaced.

“What?” he asked. “Go on, spill.”

“…it’s my birthday.” She confessed, peeling the label off her beer.

He leant back, exhaling loudly. “Sweet Jesus…that is _depressing_.” He took a swig from the bottle. “And that’s…”

“The only thing…I…” She answered, shrugging. “…I don’t like gifts anyway.”

“Yeah.” Tony smiled. “Good thing he didn’t send you a puppy, huh?” he grinned. “Come on Doc. That was a good one.”

“I’m sorry, Tony. I can’t really laugh about this right now.” She pressed her eyes, probably trying to keep from crying.

“Hey, Doc…” he didn’t exactly know what to say. He didn’t do caring. “You’re making my day real awkward, so stop it already.” _Nothing_. “So you’ve had a shitty day. What do you normally do to pick yourself up again?” he asked. “Sorry, stupid question. I mean, what did you do before you started banging every demi-god who knocked on your door?”

She shot him a dirty look, which just made him giggle.

“Hey, harsh but true!” he laughed “Go on, that’s your cue. You get one, on the house. Come on! Hit me with your best shot.”

She glared, looking down the neck of her bottle. “If you spent half as much time with your girlfriend as you do on your douche-beard, you might have a fully-functioning relationship.”

“Ouch, Doc!” he laughed “Below the belt!” he sniggered through a sip. “By the way, things are actually going great now. The other day, well, like yesterday morning… I went back, apologised and everything. Just like you said; it was the fight we weren’t having.” He rolled the bottle between his hands. “And the make-up sex was _intense_!”

“I don’t…” she shook her head, unable to hold back a smile “You are the most inappropriate person…”

“Yeah.” He smirked.

“And why are you here?” she asked “Why the hell would you come back?”

He shifted in his seat. “It’s part of my long-term plan to sabotage every real relationship in my life. Then I replace everyone with robot-friends. I’ve got blueprints, there’s a pamphlet and everything.”

“So, am I your friend then?”

“Not really. At this point you’re more of an _enabler_.” He smiled. “You’ll know we’re friends because it will come with the question: _‘Tony, what the hell is this, and why are we burying it?’_ ”

She nodded, smiling.

“So Doc, you didn’t answer me. What do you wanna do today?” he tried to keep the eye-contact. He’d heard that eye-contact was important. “Anything, apart from like, tedious stuff.”

“I’m not allowed to go anywhere.” She sighed. “Shield’s rules…”

“Well, fuck ‘em.” He shrugged. “I mean, they’ve been doing such a _great job_ so far, but I think you can stand to take a day out from house arrest.”

“You know, you’re right.” She smiled “Fuck ‘em.” She raised her bottle. “Cheers, Tony.”

“Anytime, Doc.” He smiled. “Anytime.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> I'm a bit under the weather at the moment, so please forgive any grammatical errors.
> 
> Please let me know what you think.
> 
> I'm sorry to unleash super-creepy Loki onto the world, but to be fair, I think he was there already.
> 
> x Pinch


	30. The Last of the Heroes

### Chapter 30 – The Last of the Heroes

#### Part 1 - Grateful

The mother wept until it seemed she had no tears left in her body. Her body shook violently with every paroxysm. The father stared through empty eyes, his mind stuck in some dark corner. They could only watch as each breath grew shallower, as chunks of singed flesh turned paler; as their child lay dying.

“Please, God, please.” The mother cried, her hands wrapped tightly together. “Save my baby.”

Loki could hardly have found a more opportune moment to appear.

The man saw first, shaking his wife in silent disbelief. “Who…who are you?” he gasped.

He smiled. “I am Loki, of Asgard. And I am burdened with glorious purpose.” He stepped closer to the child and placed his hand over her face.

“What are you doing?!” the woman screamed.

“Do not.” Loki warned the man who had risen from his chair. “Stay where you are, and be grateful, mortal. You are to be given a gift.” He felt the energy seep from his fingers, deep into the child.

It was strange; the skin seemed to split and pop, before melting away to the flesh beneath. Then healthier tissue grew forth; a little pale, perhaps, but smooth and without any scar. Little limbs twitched, like death coming alive, as muscles re-grew and bones re-set. The chest rose and fell, with a cough and a splutter clearing the dark debris of fire.

“Oh my God!” the woman fell to her knees.

The man simply stared and wept.

Loki turned to them, smiling at the woman who lay before him. He knelt to just above her level. “Tell the world its God has come.” He whispered. “And let them know your gratitude.” He stepped back and vanished from them.

   


#### Part 2 - The Last of the Heroes

Steve Rodgers sat in the silence of an empty Shield meeting room. He had long since stopped thinking of himself as Captain America, and instead as ‘one of the agents’. But he wasn’t one of them. The real agents were lying bloodied and broken in a medical unit, while he had just been left behind. He was an asset. He was too important to risk. And as much as he _hated_ what he saw around him, he couldn’t do a darn thing about it.

_Some hero._

“You wanted to see me, Captain Rodgers?” Fury asked. He looked a lot older than when they had last met, only days before.

“Yes, Sir.” He replied. “And if I could, I would like permission to speak freely.”

Fury nodded. “Permission granted.”

“Sir, I don’t like this. Any of it.” He sat virtually motionless, hands clasped together.

Fury sighed. “I know, Captain. But it’s not like the old days. These are very desperate times.”

“Yes, Sir. I understand that.” His face was held calm, though he felt himself tense. “But this is wrong. I’m not saying it’s not smart, I’m not saying it’s not the best thing in the circumstances. But it’s wrong, and I don’t know how desperate we have to be to act like this.”

“Captain, I made a judgement call; one which I pray to God you never have to make. But I made it. Now you don’t have to like my orders, you don’t have to agree with them, but if you are a Shield agent, you _do_ have to follow them.”

“Sir.” The Captain nodded.

“I can’t protect her. You know that.” Fury rubbed his forehead. “Stark…motherfucking Stark…He’s gonna screw this up.”

“He’s not going to like it.” He replied. “I heard what he said. Tony’s one of the good guys. He won’t let Loki…”

“Tony _thinks_ he’s one of the good guys. But, hell, I don’t know if I can tell who the good guys are anymore.” Fury leant against the wall. “And we’re not _letting_ Loki…we’re not giving up, we’re just not going to intentionally and pointlessly piss-off the demi-god. We need to focus on the battles we can win. The rest is…extra.”

Rodgers stared hard into the centre of the table. “When I was stationed in Europe, this Private said to me; _‘When we win the war, we’ll forget everything we lost. Everything we gave up. All the friends we left behind.’_ Well, I don’t know about you, Sir, but I’ve never forgotten. Not a single one of them.”

“Me neither.” Fury nodded. “But those are your marching orders, Captain Rodgers.”

“Yes Sir.”

“But, just in case you think of a way to get me out of this mess, feel free to speak up.” Fury laid a hand on his shoulder. “You’re my second in command, while Agent Hill is indisposed.”

Rodgers didn’t move. “Because I’m unbreakable?” he asked.

“Because you don’t have anything left to lose.” Fury sighed, and turned to walk from the room.

“You’re wrong, Sir.” Rodgers called after him. “I still have my soul.”

“Hold on to it, Captain.” Fury replied, facing away from him. “You pawn that thing out, it takes a hell of a lot to buy it back.”

   


#### Part 3 - Like Flying

Tony tried to catch his breath. He wanted to blame that on the infection, and not the fact that he hadn’t hit the gym in a while. He wasn’t making much progress up the sand-dune, so he decided to stay put. ‘Beach’ really wasn’t the word. Beaches implied sunshine and bikinis and surfing. The closest he’d seen was an old lady in a turtle-neck. “So…you weren’t kidding when you said; you just run down a pile of rocks.” His brow raised. 

“It’s called Scree-Running, Tony.” She replied, clambering up the dune. “It’s great. When you’re going down so fast…it almost feels like you’re flying.” She stood at the summit, eyes closed and smiling.

“You know…” he called up “You know what feels even more like flying? Actually flying! What you’re talking about is falling with a few stops on the way…” he stared in horror as she launched herself off the top. “Shit, Doc! Are you trying to give me a heart-attack?!”

“Live a little, Tony!” she shouted as she careered violently forwards, her feet bouncing off the scattering sand.

“Fuck!” he shouted as he lost his balance and started to tumble down.

“You only fall if you stop moving your feet!” she called back.

“Fucking-redneck-base-jumping-shit!” he shouted as he tried to keep his feet and head at opposite ends of his body. “Last time I do you a fucking favour, Doc! Shit!” he skidded a good foot and a half, before making contact with firmer soil. “God, I hate this fucking country. Stupid-ass sports…chasing a fucking cheese, I mean who the fuck does that?! And don’t get me started on…” he looked up and realised he was ranting to himself.

She stood at the water-line, not moving, only looking forward. When he caught up with her, he was shocked at how spaced-out she looked. “You think…you think I could make it?” she asked, staring into the horizon.

“Yeah.” He replied “I mean, there’s probably a kraken or something, but, you know, go for the eyes.” He shrugged. “Most of the time, it’s the eyes.”

“He’s going to find me.” She said with a cold certainty. “Wherever I go, he’s going to find me.”

“Don’t worry about it, Doc. You sit tight. When he shows, I’ll blast his fucking face off.” His hand hovered over her shoulder for a moment, then he decided it was probably best not. She’d had enough unwanted physical contact for a lifetime.

“Thanks.” She smiled sadly. “I mean it, Tony. Thanks for this.”

“No problem, Doc. Running away ‘s my specialty. I like to practice at least a couple times a year. That and resurrection.”

She smirked to herself. “Like a cowardly Jesus.”

He laughed loudly at that. “Yeah, but with a better suit!” he felt his phone buzz in his pocket, but he ignored it. “I gotta get that on my business card: _Tony Stark, genius millionaire playboy philanthropist –slash- cowardly Jesus_.”

“Or just on the back.” She grinned, then turned to a slow sigh.

He half-waited through a creeping silence. “So…” he shifted in the sand. “Can we leave the grey and depressing cliffs yet, or are you still filling up on the ambience?”

She ignored him. “I used to come here, when I was younger. When I wanted to just be alone, you know? Somewhere I didn’t have to think about who I was or what I was doing in the world. Somewhere I could be small, and insignificant…and that was ok.” She looked to him. “Have you ever felt like that?”

“Nope. Never. Can we go now?” he replied instantly. “It’s fucking freezing.”

She sighed, staring at the water that was lapping at her feet. “Yes. Alright.”

“You know what I have been wondering, though?” he asked as they started to walk back “ _Slut-bucket_ ; is that like a lazy measuring instrument, or like a bucket full of sluts? Like _‘the police slut-bucket had enough herpes to fill a slut-bucket twice over’_?”

She didn’t reply.

“Or like a hot-tub? That’s what I’m naming my next hot-tub. Definitely.”

   


#### Part 4 - Miracle

“Tony?” Caitlyn asked as the chauffeured car turned a corner.

“Yuh?” he barely replied, eyes closed beneath his sunglasses.

Her thoughts stung with the question she hadn’t quite been able to ask; “Why are you doing this for me?”

“Hmm?” he mumbled.

“Tony. Why are you doing this?”

“Augh.” He scrambled upright in his seat. “I think I was napping there for a bit. Can’t believe that happened, what with the _total party_ going on back here…”

She persisted. “Tony. Tell me.”

He sighed. “What? You wanna hear that I feel sorry for you? That I’m trying to help out a friend? Truth is, I just really like pushing Loki’s buttons. Guy’s a dick.” Tony cricked his neck to one side, then the other. “And for a dude whose whole shit is taking over the world, he’s not even very good at it. Lot of posturing, lot of posing, but hell, even Doom managed a weekend. And that’s just on crazy and static electricity.”

She smiled. “Thanks Tony.”

“You gotta stop thanking me for not doing shit.” He replied with a little smirk. “I’m Tony freaking Stark. If I owe you one, you should hold out for more than a couple beers. Maybe…” he stopped mid-sentence, lowering his sunglasses. “Shit.”

The thrum of the helicopter’s engines filled the air as light streamed through the window. _“Answer your damn phone, Stark!”_ Fury’s voice echoed from the speakers.

The car screeched to an ungainly halt as the helicopter landed before them in the middle of the country road. Fury marched over to the car, and banged on Tony’s window.

Tony lowered the glass. “…yeah?”

“Stark! I need you in the helicopter two minutes ago. Get your ass in gear!”

Tony grumbled a short reply, and struggled out of his seat, still wearing sunglasses in the pitch black. “Better be fucking important…” he muttered.

“Trust me. It is.” Fury barked. “The Captain ‘ll brief you.”

“I…um…” Caitlyn interjected “Should I just…?”

Once Stark was inside the helicopter, Fury took a seat inside the car. “I’m guessing Tony’s not told you what’s going on.”

“Not…really.” She grasped the door handle, but found it stuck. “Mr Fury, what’s happening?”

The helicopter rose into the sky, and the car accelerated.

“Mr Fury, what the hell is going on?” she felt her heart racing, nausea climbing inside her.

Fury sighed. “There’s been a development.” He handed her the Shield folder. “Loki. He…well, you can see for yourself.”

She stared at the photographs in front of her. “What the hell is this?”

“Before, and after.” He explained, indicating to the child who at one moment had third-degree burns, and at the next was completely healed. “Don’t ask me how, ‘cause I am sure I have no idea, but I think we both know why.” He handed her something else; a single sheet of paper.

“No.” she shook as she read it. “I’m sorry, but no. I can’t.” she pressed her hands over her mouth. “I can’t…” she tried the door again “Is that why you sent Tony away?!” her voice had risen sharply. “I can’t!” she bit down against her tears, trying to calm herself. “You know what this means, don’t you?”

Fury nodded. “Yes I do. I didn’t write it, but I authorised it.”

“You can’t expect me to…”

“No. I can’t.” Fury replied. “Doctor, I can’t expect you to do anything. I can’t order you to. I can’t even tell you it’s the right thing to do, because honestly, I’m not sure that it is.”

The car changed route, no longer travelling to her house, but towards the hospital.

“You know what this means.” she said bitterly “You know exactly what’s going to happen if I go on TV, and I say this.” She almost tore the paper in half between her shaking hands. “It’s a fucking invitation, isn’t it? You want to give him your fucking _permission_?!”

Fury shook his head. “I can’t tell you what’s going to happen, because I don’t know. It’s good that he’s reaching out like this. It means we have a shot at keeping him calm. Calm is safer, for everyone. That said, nothing’s a hundred percent. But one thing I can tell you, Doctor; that kid’s life was a gift.” He stared down at the space between his knees. “And when someone gives you a gift, the polite thing is to say thank you.”

She sat so silent, trying to weigh everything. She couldn’t breathe. She closed her eyes and tried to think, but everything was spinning. “When?” she finally asked.

“As soon as we arrive. Less than four minutes.” He replied.

_Inhale. Exhale._

“Pass me my bag.” She told him. “Look, if I’m going to do this, I’m going to do it fucking right.” She grabbed the bag, pulling out her make-up and mirror.

_Tart yourself up. Give him a pretty little whore._

A few minutes of preening later, the car arrived into the media frenzy. She let her hair down, _the way he liked it_. She let the noise wash over her, internally reciting Invictus.

> ‘ _Beyond this place of wrath and tears_  
>  _Looms but the Horror of the shade,_  
>  _And yet the menace of the years_  
>  _Finds and shall find me unafraid.’_

And so, she gave their speech. She didn’t smile. She barely looked up. She didn’t want to look. She didn’t want to feel his eyes on her. “…we still do not understand how this occurred, and cannot confirm any previous comments made to the media. One thing remains certain; that whoever did this…performed nothing short of a miracle…” she had to fight to get the last sentence out. “And for that, he has our gratitude.”

There was a barrage of questions, none of which she heard. Nick Fury ushered her to one side, put her in the car, and sent her away. She didn’t care where. The car drove on, and twisted and turned in the night. Then, out of nowhere something struck her; a thought that hadn’t crossed her mind before; that silk scarf she had used to try and cover up the bruises…

…it was green.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, without being too preachy, it seems like Tony's the last hero left standing.
> 
> You can guess about how that's going to turn out.
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Please let me know what you think/ anything that's really niggling at the back of your mind about the plot/ etc.  
> (If you want. :P)
> 
> x Pinch


	31. Behind Closed Doors

### Chapter 31 – Behind Closed Doors

#### Part 1 – The End Complete

The Scholar rocked back and forth in the darkness. The eyes looked too deep. The eyes split open his head, and filled it with poisonous thoughts.

_Kill him._

“No!” he cried.

_Slit his throat. Drain him of his blood._

“I can’t!”

_We shall tell you how. We shall teach you secrets. Ways to make him weak._

The scholar wept in his hands. “I cannot hurt God! God is good! God is everything.”

_Kill the false god. End suffering._

“I can’t. There has to be another way!”

_There is no other. There is no different. The great serpent will rise, and drown Asgard in blood. The monsters will rise from the lands of death, and break the bones of Midgard men. There will be pain. There will be suffering. The false god must die!_

“No!” the scholar screamed, tearing apart the bond, scattering the traced symbols. “No.” He wrote quickly, as he could already feel the knowledge slipping away…

The fourth god…must never fall.

   


#### Part 2 – Behind Closed Doors

Caitlyn didn’t know what time it was when she finally got inside, only that it was late, and that she was exhausted.

“We’ve secured the premises, mam.” Agent Smith informed her.

“Good. That’s…good.” She replied, putting one foot in front of the other.

“Mam?” he called after her as she ascended the stairs.

“Just give me five freaking minutes, ok?” she groaned.

He followed her. “Protocol, mam.”

“Fuck your fucking protocol!” she yelled, slamming her bedroom door, and holding it shut with her weight leant against it. She exhaled, closing her eyes.

_“Mam!”_ he called.

“I’m sorry, I…” she turned to let him in, only finding the handle wouldn’t move. “The door’s stuck…”

“Hello Caitlyn.” A familiar voice purred over her shoulder. “I heard what you said. Tell me; did you mean a word of it?” His fingers traced from her arm up to her neck, playing with the scarf.

She turned to face him. “Does it matter?” she asked bitterly.

Loki smiled. “No, I suppose not.” He indicated to the bed. “Would you sit with me? They will not be able to open the door for some time.”

“I’d rather stand.” She folded her arms in front of her, creating somewhat of a barrier between the two of them.

“Yes, I remember.” He smirked, briefly licking his lips. He shook his dazed head. “You will be pleased to know; I have chosen to forgive you your spiteful words. You had too much to drink and spoke without thinking.”

The shield agents began pounding on the door. The frame rattled loudly, but seemed not to take any damage at all.

Loki held out his hand. “Come. Let us sit. This din is not conducive to conversation.”

“No.” she replied.

“Caitlyn. Is _this_ really the point on which will you fight me?”

“Yes. Yes it is.” She stated angrily.

He glared. “Evidently you have been spending too much time with Stark. That will stop. Now.”

“I don’t like people who threaten my friends.” She pressed herself back against the door as he inched closer.

“And I do not like making threats.” He replied coolly. “I do not make them lightly, and I do not make them twice.”

“Then why don’t you?” she confronted him. “Why don’t you just say it?! Why don’t you make your terrible threats, and give me another reason to hate you!”

He turned his face away from her. “You can be so very cruel.”

“You are a vain, petty, spiteful man.” She spat at him.

His fist collided with the wall beside her. “I am a vain, petty, spiteful _God_!” he bellowed “And you would do well to remember that!” He suddenly stopped and stepped back, seeming to shake. He looked a little sick. “I apologise.” He walked over to her bed and sat down. “Please.”

She remained still.

“Please Caitlyn.” He sighed. “Do not fight me. I always win.”

Despite all her better judgement, she went to him. She took her place beside him.

He smiled lightly, caressing the silk around her neck. “My colour suits you well.” He remarked, pulling it away. “I do not wish to harm you, you know that.” His cold fingertips traced her throat. “But I will not be parted from you.”

A strange sparking sensation curled inside her skin, dissipating in an instant.

“Not by my enemies, nor my allies, nor your fear of me.” His hand cupped her face, thumb tracing her lips.

She grasped his hand and pulled it from her. “I’m not afraid of you, Loki. I just don’t like you.”

He smirked. “And so you claim. Repeatedly. Fervently.” He twisted their hands so that he now had a grip of her wrist, pulling her closer to him. “Do you tell them you are sickened by my touch?”

“Let go of me, Loki.” She warned.

“Did you inform them that it was you who pursued me? That you came to me, _willingly_ , over and over…” when she pulled away from him, he stood before her. “…and you loved it! You loved it when I tied you up and I fucked you, and you came back for more!” he laughed.

She darted to the side, but found he matched every movement.

He advanced while she backed away. “And when I pinned you to the wall and fucked you with my hand around your throat, you didn’t think of fear or hate. Only of the bliss that I gave you!” he hissed. “Does that make you feel guilty, Caitlyn?”

Her hand tightened around the window’s handle, lifting it and pressing outwards against the glass.

“Really?” he asked. “I have existed over a thousand years, and you thought I would not know to lock the window?” he sighed in exasperation “And where would you go? Where do you think I would not find you as easily as I have done tonight?” he brushed her hair back from her face. “I will always find you, Caitlyn. And those who try to keep you from me will suffer for it.”

She spun around as she heard the whir of engines, but what she saw was decidedly smaller than a helicopter. _“What the fuck?”_ she mouthed.

Loki grabbed her from behind, holding her against him. “Look! Here comes Mister Stark now.”

The red and gold suit shot some kind of laser from its arm. Green mist seeped out of the frame to match the burning light.

“Can you hear that, my dear? That is the sound of unfulfilled promises. Of brave, yet curiously empty words. Of: _‘I’m not going to let that bastard touch you!’_ Tell me, love, did he stay true to his word?”

She struggled against him. “Tony!” she cried. “If you can hear me…It’s a trick! He won’t hurt me!” 

Loki’s hand clamped across her mouth. “Well, that’s enough of that.” He held her tightly as she continued to thrash. “Shh.” He whispered gently. “And the great Iron Man, one of _Earth’s mightiest heroes_ , cannot save one woman? I wonder what chance you have against what I have in store.” At the snap of his fingers, the window turned black.

She bit into his hand, making him hiss.

“Do not start something you are not willing to finish, love.” He smiled against her. “I apologise for the theatrics.” He dropped his hand from her mouth to allow her a reply.

“Get the hell away from me.” She warned, still struggling against him.

“Alright.” He said simply, releasing her and stepping back. “But please, remember what I said. I will not be merciful. Not even for you.” He walked away from her, keeping her gaze. “I will come for you, soon. Take care not to place those you care about into my path.” From his pocket he removed the remade watch, placing it upon the table. “Oh, and if I were you, I would step away from the window. Stark’s machines tend to overdo destruction.”

Caitlyn could only stare as he vanished before her eyes. Sure, it wasn’t the first time it happened, but that didn’t make it any less bizarre to watch. In a blink it was like he’d never been there at all.

Half a second later, the window beside her turned clear and exploded into the room. Fragments of glass spread across the floor, followed by a cloud of dust. At roughly the same time, the door broke open, and Agent Smith appeared with gun raised.

“It’s alright!” she shouted, hands in the air. “I’m alright. He’s gone.”  
 

#### Part 3 – A New Record

The room was small and dark, locked far away from all the other Shield facilities. If the last few had been high-security, this was a fucking bunker. Tony had been asked to leave all his technology outside, and they had scanned the room twice before going in. Just him and Fury. Apparently no-one else was trustworthy enough.

“Are you proud?” Stark growled. “No, I seriously want to know. Hell, this must be some kinda record! Ten fucking minutes! Hey, I’m never gonna say Shield’s not efficient!”

Fury held his calm. “It was a calculated risk. The Doctor knew what might happen. We didn’t make her…”

“No, but you pushed it, didn’t you? You said it in a way where she couldn’t say no, because that’s not who she is. You knew she was a good person, and you used that to save your own ass!” He yelled, slamming his fists down on the table.

Fury didn’t move, he just watched and waited.

“And in your fucking calculated risk, did you think she might get hurt?” He asked bitterly. “Did you know that?”

“Tony. She said herself that he wasn’t going to harm her.”

“Because she’s shit scared of him! Jesus Christ! Do you not remember this guy? He’s an evil fucking psycho!” Tony struggled to get his words together. “He punched a hole through the wall! That doesn’t say _threatening_ to you?!”

“Tony. I need you to listen to me.” Fury replied patiently. “She was a distraction; something to get us out of the way, while his team hit _a nuclear facility_.” He spread the Shield file out in front of him.

“You didn’t see what I saw, alright? This was more than just some fucking side-show. This was the main event.”

“How do you know that? How do you know that this isn’t Loki playing up to the whole white-knight thing you’ve got going on? This…” Fury turned the pages, pointing to blueprints and photos of the scene. “This is evidence. This is cold hard fact. This is the lives of thousands of people. Right here. What you have is a hunch.”

“So we’re actually saying his name now? We’re not whispering in the dark and hoping ol’ Voldemort won’t appear?” Tony muttered. “And anyway, it’s not my fucking hunch. It was Banner. He knew about this. He said: _‘Don’t let him take her.’_ And that’s what you’re fucking doing anyway!”

Fury cut in. “Then Dr Banner should have been a little more specific. Give me a ‘because’. Give me any reason why this takes precedence over a nuclear weapon, and I will put the whole goddamn agency on it. But until then, I need you to focus on stopping Loki.” He paused. “Tony, I have good intel on this. Shield is going in, and I need you on side. We need Iron Man.”

“And what if you’re wrong?” Tony stood from the desk, and began to pace. “What if this is just to get us out of the way, and then he’s just fucking _laughing_ at us, as we follow your _‘good intel’_ … which, how the fuck did you get anyway? You don’t just _defect_ from Loki. He kills people. That’s one thing you can be damn sure is in his M.O. I mean, are you fucking stupid?”

Fury didn’t rise to the insult.

“He’s playing this game on a whole other level, and you’re relying on some guy’s word because you’re getting desperate? What, are the mega council calling all the shots now? Cause it sounds like they’ve got your nuts in a vice.”

“Stark.” Fury warned.

Tony ignored him. “Do you even remember back before some nut-job could dangle info in front of our eyes, and we’d start drooling like a dog with a fucking bone?”

“Stark!”

“When did we all decide to stop thinking?” He looked for something in Fury, some defiance of this bureaucratic bullshit. “Loki is smarter than letting you get anything about what he’s planning. He’s a hell of a lot smarter than whoever decided that this was a good idea!”

“Stark! I am giving you a direct order!”

“Well, I can’t obey it. I’m not doing it. I’m not.”

“Shield needs reliability. Without Doctor Banner and Thor, the Avengers Initiative is hanging on by a thread, and I can’t risk it being compromised because one of its key members is a loose cannon!”

“Well, that’s fine by me, because if we’re all puppets for your shady bosses, then I don’t wanna be a part of it.”

Fury spoke coolly and calm. “Are you saying you quit the Avengers?”

“I guess that’s what I’m saying.” He thought a moment. “But do me one last favour; don’t make it official until after your raid. Let them think I’m coming with you. I don’t care what shit you spin after that, just delay your report, alright? And keep the comms open. If I’m right you’re gonna need me.”

Fury gave no response one way or the other.

That was fine by Tony. He left the room and picked up his phone and headset.

_“Sir?”_ Jarvis buzzed. _“I have something you might want to see.”_

“What am I looking at here, Jarvis?” He asked, staring at the footage on his phone: the Doc went to bed, switched off the light, then nothing, just her lying there.

_“A statistically unlikely pattern of activity, Sir. Along with an audio mismatch.”_ Jarvis replied. _“Around five hours unaccounted for. I am currently analysing all previous footage.”_

“Five hours? What do you mean _five hours_ , Jarvis?!” Tony found himself shouting.

_“Isolating the audio discrepancy now, Sir.”_ Jarvis reported.

Tony heard the sound of footsteps, a muffled voice. Loki’s voice, nearly drowned away in all but a few phrases: _“No matter. Keep me informed.”_

“There, right there, Jarvis. You hear that? Get the timestamp, and find out if anyone here…” he turned around to see Fury glaring at him.

“Is there something I need to know?”

_“Triangulating origin now, Sir. Phone is in active use.”_ Jarvis flashed up a map on Stark’s phone. _“Down the corridor, third on your left. I advise that you proceed with some discretion, Sir.”_

“Yeah, I bet you do.” Tony replied, trying not to give any kind of warning signal that could be seen by the cameras. “Hold on, Jarvis. Things are about to go dark.” He reached into his pocket and activated the disruptor.

The whole corridor went pitch black, save for the glow of Tony’s chest plate. Fury immediately backed him up with a torch and a Glock.

“You want to tell me what the hell is going on?” Fury asked with a deceptive calm.

“Yeah, but promise me you’ll sound impressed when I do.” Stark smirked, leading them both towards their target. “Whoever’s on the other side of that door has been feeding Loki information, not to mention fucking with your security systems.” Stark dropped to a mutter “…Just so you know, wouldn’t have happened with my software. That’s all I’m saying.”

“Behind this door?” Fury asked. “Then I guess we’d better open it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> It's getting super-exciting now.
> 
> Just so you know, we're getting close to the speech in the description (maybe a couple of chapters down the line).
> 
> Do not worry, this is nowhere near the end of the story. The plot bunnies will not allow it.
> 
> x Pinch


	32. The Traitor

### Chapter 32 – The Traitor

#### Part 1 – The Traitor

Fury broke open the door with one well-placed kick, and entered with Glock and torch raised. In less than a second he had the target in his sights. “Hands in the air!” he yelled.

The blonde man complied, dropping the phone as he did. There was a little smirk on his face, one which he didn’t even try to hide.

“Galaga Guy?” Tony stared.

“You know the drill, Hart.” Fury ordered.

Hart complied, placing his head against the wall, arms raised until Fury cuffed them behind him.

“So…do you carry those on you all the time, or what?” Tony asked, unsure of what he should be doing. “Just a little curious. I mean, that’s kinda kinky.”

“You won’t get anything from me, Director.” Hart ignored Stark, speaking into the wall. “He’d kill me first.”

“Yeah, well, let’s just see how far we get.” Fury replied, dragging Hart by the arm, out into the corridor and back to the secure room. “I want my lights back on, Stark.” He called behind him.

“Oh, yeah.” Tony replied, deactivating the disruptor.

The lights in the corridor fizzed back into life. Jarvis chirped from Tony’s phone _“Good to see you again, Sir.”_

“You did a good job, Jarvis. I’m proud of you.” He told the screen.

_“Technically, Sir, you’re proud of yourself.”_ Jarvis replied.

“Yeah I am.” Tony smiled.

Fury sat Hart down on one of the metal chairs. “Stark, if you’re not going to leave the cell phone outside, you could at least close the goddamn door.”

Tony shut the door, letting it rattle in the frame.

“What does he have on you?” Fury asked, taking a seat before Hart.

Hart stared back, then slowly slipped into cruel laughter. “ _Have_ on me?” he rocked against the chair as his chest shook with hilarity.

_“Sir…”_ Jarvis piped up _“I thought you might like to know; Mr Hart has received over five hundred thousand dollars via wire transfers over the last month, into various bank accounts.”_

“That’d do it.” Tony mused. “I mean, if you’re not me.”

“What, Shield doesn’t pay you enough?” Fury asked. “You could’ve taken that up with HR.”

Hart shook his head, still smiling. “It wasn’t about the money. That didn’t hurt, though; half a mil’ just to fake some footage and make a few phone calls…” he looked straight at Fury. “More, after.”

“After what?” Fury barked.

“Sorry, Sir. That’s classified.” Hart grinned, shaking his head. “Need-to-know basis.”

Fury leaned forward, glaring. “Well, I think I need to know!”

Hart didn’t reply. He just sat there, smiling.

“How’d he get you?” Tony asked. “Honestly, I’m curious. You’ve not got the blue _mind-fucked_ eyes, and you said it wasn’t the money. What was it? Did Loki show you the world; shining shimmering, splendid?”

Hart looked to Tony, unblinking, still, as though waiting for a signal. “Everyone gets a choice, Mr Stark.” He finally spoke. “Even you.” Hart broke the smile with a disjointed stare. “Loki is a fair God.”

“What about Agent Hill?” Fury asked bitterly. “Was that fair?”

“Maria chose wrong.” Hart shrugged. “Either way, Loki gets what he wants. You can get on the winning side, or you can make yourself suffer.”

“Whoa, back up there, SS. What now?” Tony interjected.

“It’s not important.” Fury replied.

“Not important, Director?” Hart asked. “I think Mr Stark should know what happens to people who try to resist.”

“Tony, he’s trying to mess with your head. Don’t listen to him.” Fury warned.

“Go and have a look for yourself. See what rebellion gets you.” Hart remarked. “Helicarrier, Medical bay.”

“Hart, you are facing charges of terrorism. This is not the time to be making someone else’s goddamn threats!” Fury shouted.

Hart shrugged once again, his gaze drifting over his shoulder, to the empty wall and blacked-out window.

“Hey, asshole.” Tony called to him. “What was the price of your lifejacket? Why’d he have you hide the whole night-time stalking?”

He turned and smiled. “What’s that, Mr Stark?”

“You heard me. Why’s he after the Doc? Everything else I get, but why that?” Tony walked towards him, until he was virtually standing over the prisoner. “It doesn’t make sense. Why put so much effort into making sure he wasn’t caught, if he wants us to know anyway?”

“If you’re asking me his plans, I don’t know.” Hart replied. “If you’re asking what he’s going to do to her…” he grinned. “…whatever he fucking wants! And you won’t be able to do a damn thing to stop him.”

Tony stopped short of landing a punch on the guy’s face, instead turning to leave the room. “Fuck this.” he swore.

“Run and hide, Mr Stark!” Hart called after him. “Stay away, and he might let you live!”

“Loki can go fuck himself. You tell him that from me.” Tony replied, slamming the door shut behind him.

Fury stared at the agent who had betrayed all of them, unable to think of anything but burning hate.

“…he doesn’t ask for much, Director Fury.” Hart spoke softly. “Just your cooperation. Hell, that’s a better deal than we had in ’09.” He leaned in. “He doesn’t want to make enemies.”

“Hmm.” Fury replied.

“There’s a war coming. More than this…” Hart dropped to a whisper. “…I’ve seen it. Like we’ve never met before… we can’t fight it, not alone, but he can save us.”

“Huh.” Fury nodded. “You seem pretty damn sure about that. You wanna tell me why you’re so convinced by the word of the God of Lies?”

“Because of…” Hart stopped suddenly, a look of pained surprise upon his face. He looked down to see the knife that had drawn across his throat, and the blood that streamed down. He coughed a little in reflex, sending a spray of blood out towards Fury.

Loki held the man’s head still, forced back slightly to allow the blood to seep out quicker. “Don’t.” he told Fury calmly. “I want him to die.”

Fury sat back in his chair, watching as Hart bled to death. “He’s one of yours.” Fury eventually said, sickened at the sight while unable to look away.

“He was sloppy. He was caught.” Loki replied. “I have no need of _almost_ perfect.” He looked Fury in the eye. “Tell me; how did you discover him?”

Fury sighed. “Don’t fucking ask me. It was Stark.”

Loki’s face twisted into a scowl. “Take care to control him.”

Despite the situation, Fury let out a small laugh. “I’m sorry. Did you say _‘control him’_? Tony Stark?!” He stifled the rest of it with his fist. “Tell you what; you find out how to control Stark, you give me a call. I’d be much obliged.”

Loki glared. “Do not test me, Mister Fury. Stop him, or I shall.” Then Loki turned, disappearing in an instant, along with Hart.

…and the blood.

“Shit!” Fury swore, rising from his chair and charging through the now-open door. He grabbed his radio, and found it shattered.

Back in the room, the handcuffs sat open on the chair.

Fury charged through the corridor, to the next alarm system he could find. “Stop Agent Hart! I repeat: stop Agent Hart!” he ordered. But he knew it was too late. The guy had had at least five minutes to escape, and a demi-god to help with the getaway.

_Motherfucker._  
 

#### Part 2 – Business

Hart laughed as he jumped on his motorbike, kicking it into life and blazing through the deserted back-alleys towards the city. The thing handled like a dream, brand new and purring like a tiger. The wind whipped past his black helmet, breeze down the back of his neck. Those were perks Shield couldn’t get you. It was a shame he’d had to blow his cover. He’d really miss the front-row seat to the oncoming battle, but at least he didn’t need to hide it any more.

He slipped down the narrow alleys, making his way to the heavy evening rush-hour traffic. He cut through it with ease, reaching nearly 90. He wished he didn’t have to dump the bike. He ran a couple of reds, making sure the camera caught him in action. Car horns and screeching tires sounded behind him, but he just laughed in reply. Cause a scene, dump the bike, switch to the car. It was all perfectly planned for just such a crisis. Hey, it paid to be on the winning team.

…Hart recalled when he had first met Loki. The demi-god had been taken _‘prisoner’_ on the Shield helicarrier. He had been walking past the cells when an alarm went off; the equipment was acting up, and he was first on scene to fix it. He hadn’t really tried to ignore Loki. What was the point? They had said not to talk to him, that he could get inside your head. Well, if he could do that, he’d probably do it whenever he damn well liked, whether you were looking at him or not.

_“…Are you afraid of me, Agent Hart?”_ Loki had snarled. _“Is that why you stare?”_

_“Yes, Sir. I am.”_ Hart had nodded, then went to work on the console. _“But the reason I’m staring, is that I’ve never seen a God before. Not one who acts like a God.”_

_“My brother does not impress you, then?”_ Loki’s face had turned to a smile. _“Such flattery. Is this the next line of interrogation?”_

Hart let his reply show on his face. _“I thought you might want to know, the cameras aren’t functional, for at least the next minute.”_ He had inputted a series of commands, writing new code into the machine. _“And …that… is the new override for your cell.”_

_“A traitor as well? My, my.”_ Loki drummed his fingertips against the glass.

_“I prefer opportunist. Shield finds out, I say you controlled me. They don’t…”_ he had shrugged _“…just remember the guy smart enough to choose his side early.”_

That had been the first time he had switched, and he had never regretted it. Of course he had worried; for the next few months he expected that at any minute Nick Fury would turn up at his door…but he didn’t. Then he thought for sure that the enquiry would find out…but they didn’t. At last, one night Loki had appeared in Hart’s apartment, and he thought this time, this time everything would come crashing down around him…but it didn’t…

Hart skidded a harsh right-turn through traffic, closing in to his destination. He switched off the engine, lowering the kickstand and leaving the lights on, and the helmet resting on the seat. It would take maybe five minutes for some kid to take the bike, and that would lead Shield on a wild-goose-chase for a good hour. He grinned, walking through the pitch black streets.

…It hadn’t been a bad offer as it stood…he didn’t have high prospects in Shield to begin with; sure, he had managed to fake his way through the psych eval’, but some of the other agents could see through it, including Fury. But Hart was the best there was, intelligence side. He could calculate flight trajectories in his sleep, and his programmes cracked enemy firewalls like nothing they’d ever seen. But they just didn’t trust him…so he figured; why not give them a reason?

The money was good, the perks were better. He knew well enough not to ask questions, so he wouldn’t be a liability if he was caught. He was prepared to do it just for the hell of it, and the look on Fury’s face. But then Loki had shown him why…

Eventually Hart reached the car, finding the keys under the left-front fender in a magnetic box. It was a dull car; Audi A4, Black; but at least it was easier for making a getaway. He glanced up into the cloudless sky, before entering the car.

Hart started a little when Loki appeared, as he often chose to, without warning. “I did like you said.” He spoke after catching his breath back. “Trailed them through the cameras, bike dumped.”

“Can you be sure Stark is not following you?” Loki asked, glaring into the distance.

Hart grinned to himself. “Stark’s elsewhere. I sent him after Hill, so he can see what he’s up against…” the laugh was cut short as Loki grasped his neck.

“I did not tell you to improvise!” Loki growled.

“I’m…sorry…” Hart rasped with what little breath he could. “Won’t…happen…again…”

“You follow instructions as they are given; you understand me, boy?” The god tightened his grip, threatening to crush Hart’s windpipe.

Hart nodded fiercely, head colliding with the door window as he did. Loki released him, and he coughed violently.

“How did they find you?” Loki asked.

“Stark…” Hart cleared his throat. “…Stark’s computer found something, in the footage. Then he cut out all the electronics…some kind of disruptor…” he rubbed his aching neck “…I really could use one of those…” he mumbled to himself, then turned his attention back to Loki.

“Fury will not change course.”

“Not likely.” Hart replied.

“And Stark?”

“…I don’t know.” Hart admitted. “He was asking about her, though. He’s got a secure apartment in the city. If you’re looking for her, I’d wager that’s where she’ll be.”

Loki didn’t reply, he just sat in silence, then vanished as swiftly as he had appeared.

Hart shrugged to himself, starting the car. “And that’s none of my fucking business.” He muttered.  
 

#### Part 3 – Some Luck

Stark watched uneasily as the Doc turned the watch over in her hands.

“It’s exactly the same…”she said softly “…not a copy. It’s the same one.”

“How ‘bout we put that away, maybe in a nice firing range?” He offered.

She ignored him. “It’s like…you know when a cat brings home a dead bird? It’s disgusting, and you just want to never see it again, but at the back of your mind you know it was meant to be a gift.”

“No. No feeling sorry for the psycho killer.” Stark grabbed the watch from her. “He’s not a cat. He’s an evil space-giant with magical powers. Whole different thing.” He placed the watch in a secure locked-box, shutting the whole thing tight. He sighed in exasperation. “Jeez, Doc. No-one ever tell you: _‘you don’t put your dick in crazy’_?”

She stared back at him. “Not in so many words.” She picked at her fingernails. “…and he’s not a psycho.”

“I know, I know… _'malignant narcissist’_ …” Tony threw around the air-quotes like they were going out of fashion.

“No, you don’t _know_.” She said bitterly, driving her nails into her palm. “You don’t appreciate what that means. If he were a psychopath, he wouldn’t understand the suffering he causes. He wouldn’t know what it meant, what it _really_ meant… but he’s worse than that.” She stared into the ground. “Loki _knows_ , he just doesn’t care.”

_“It would seem he cares about you, Mam.”_ Jarvis interjected.

“Jarvis. Remember we had that talk about you not being a total dick?” Tony glared at his ceiling.

She drew her hand across her forehead. “He’s…Jarvis is right. I just wish I knew the reason why…” she yawned loudly.

“Nightcap?” Tony offered.

“No…I told you…I’m going in to work tomorrow.” She sighed. “Well, today, I guess…”

“And I told you that’s a fucking stupid idea. Didn’t I, Jarvis?”

_“Word for word, Sir.”_ Jarvis replied.

“And what’s the alternative? Hide out here?” she asked. “Is that what you would do?” She stared at him, watching his expression. “Would you honestly just sit and wait?”

“…not just sit…” Tony muttered “I mean, I’ve got cable, and a hell of a lot of Scotch. You could hang out and just criticise my life. That’s fun.”

_Stupid logic. Stupid Doc and her doctor logic._

_“I believe Jurassic Park is on, Sir.”_ Jarvis offered.

“See?” he grabbed the remote. “Put it on, Jarvis.”

Tony stared at the screen, making snide quips. He was about half-way through a tirade about the stupid-as-fuck electric fence scene when he noticed the Doc had fallen asleep on the couch next to him. “What do you think, Jarvis?” he asked quietly.

_“Normal twenty-seven year-old human female, Sir.”_ Jarvis replied at a low volume setting. _“Scans and bloodwork within normal limits. No evidence of pregnancy, Sir.”_

“Thank fuck for that.” He rubbed his temple.

_“Director Fury has sent over a background check. Nothing notable was identified, Sir. No links to Shield or any other agency.”_ Jarvis seemed to sigh. _“It seems she was merely in the wrong place at the wrong time.”_

“Yeah…” Tony cut his reply short when he saw her stir a little, stretching her neck.

_Some fucking luck you have, Doc._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Agent Hart is entirely made up, but I like to think that's what shifty Galaga-guy from Avengers had going on in his spare time.
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
>  
> 
> Let me know what you think.
> 
> x Pinch


	33. Two Minutes

### Chapter 33 – Two Minutes

#### Part 1 – Dear Poison

Loki stared silently through the cold reflection, watching her and wishing so furiously to be made flesh. If not for Stark’s damned machines he might have done as he pleased. He didn’t want to harm her, not even to wake her. Just to be close, to be near, and to feel the warmth of her skin. But Stark’s mechanical servant was the last cruel barrier between Loki and his…no, not _prize_ ; prize no longer encompassed it. Neither did _obsession_ or _desire_. Obsession did not speak so clearly of the way she captivated his thoughts. Desire paled to the way he was so powerlessly drawn to her.

_She was an addiction._

Addiction, quite apt. Caitlyn, his siren: the creature who had ensnared the heart of a god, and one so cruel as to throw it back. How he loved her, but, oh, how he hated her too. How he had wished to beat the insolence out of her, and how sickened it had made him when he had come so close to doing just that.

_She made him weak._

Loki’s mind drifted to a tome he had read in some now ancient time: _‘When a man plays God, he brings suffering on those around him. When a god plays man, he brings suffering on himself.’_ At the time, he had thought it referred to idleness and passivity, but now, too late, he saw the truth in it. When gods develop a taste for mortal things, they relinquish their lust for immortality. Without that desire, one is no longer immortal; one merely continues to exist beyond mortal lives.

_She made him suffer._

He smiled, and whispered through the glass. “I love you, dear poison. I will have you soon.”  
 

#### Part 2 – Morality at Breakfast

Tony chewed unhappily on his cereal. He didn’t want to tell the Doc about the sensor readings that had shot up throughout the night. He couldn’t talk about Fury’s strike team who were hitting the ground later that day. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to tell her that Loki’s fucking watch had managed to find its way out of a secure locked-box. “…you could get really fat.”

“Hmm?” she replied, peering over the top of some medical journal.

“Like _holy-shit-we-need-a-crane_ fat.” Tony offered.

“And you think that would help?” she asked, between sips of coffee.

He shrugged. “Well, it couldn’t hurt.”

She placed the mug down, folded the magazine, and went for her bag.

“You don’t have to go.” He tried not to sound desperate. “I mean, no-one’s going to make you, or hate you for taking a day off for _once_ in your fucking life. Even doctors get to play hooky sometimes.”

“Morality lessons from an arms dealer?” she smirked.

“Well, looks like someone finally found Wikipedia.” Tony grunted.

“Nope.” She laid the journal down in front of him. “They’re comparing you to Assad.”

“Fuckers…”

“Don’t worry, you come off really well.” She smiled, pulling on her coat. “I think there’s a couple of neuropsychiatrists who would like to pick your brain…what?” she asked.

“…It’s nothing.” He gave a fake smile.

She wasn’t buying it.

“Hey, you’re like a quarter Scotch or something, right?” Tony clumsily segued.

“No, you’re a quarter _Scotch_. I’m a quarter Scottish.” She corrected him. “Why?”

“Deep fried Mars Bar. That’s a thing.”

“That is indeed a thing.” She stared at him. “But that’s not the thing you were thinking of. Come on, Tony, don’t do this. It’s my fucking job to read between the lines, and as awesome as you think you are at bullshitting, you really aren’t.”

He swallowed with a dry throat.

“Look, Tony, you’ve got your suits of armour and your ray-bans. I’ve got this.” she pulled her stethoscope from her bag and draped it around her neck. “This makes me a fucking force of nature.” She smiled. “I am become Doctor: destroyer of diseases! Weep ye bronchiolitis; tremble ye Wilms tumours; see my greatness and despair!”

“Oh my god…” Tony smirked, suddenly realising what he had failed to notice for weeks. “You’re a nerd! You’re a huge nerd!” That was why he fucking liked her.

She hushed him. “Don’t tell anyone, but all the best doctors are. We’re massive nerds, who happen to like something useful.” She pulled her bag across her shoulders. “And now I have to go be my nerd self. Don’t wait up.”

“Alright then.” Tony smiled.

_Fucking nerd._  
 

#### Part 3 – First-on

Caitlyn still couldn’t get used to a computer-driven car, no matter how safe Tony protested it was. She was relieved when the car pulled to a stop in the hospital parking garage. She pulled on the handle, but found it locked. “Jarvis? You want to let me out now?”

_“Of course, Mam, but if I may; your mannerisms changed significantly when you bid Mr Stark goodbye. Additionally; your heart rate rose to 94 from a stable 68; your respiration rate doubled. Am I to infer that you were lying?”_

She smiled to herself. “I’ll always find it funny that Tony Stark built the immortal reflection of himself, and he made it a polite Englishman.”

_“Mam, if you might be so kind as to explain your actions?”_

“Jarvis, I don’t know if you can understand this, but…I am what people need me to be.” _Reasoning with a fucking computer; this has to be the weirdest point of the day._ “He doesn’t call me by name, Jarvis.”

The door unlocked with a swift click.

_“I understand perfectly, Mam.”_ Jarvis replied. _“Have a pleasant day.”_

“Thanks…” she left the car as quickly as possible. She had almost said _‘you too’_ , but figured that machines probably didn’t have particularly good or bad days.

She hit the wards a good fifteen minutes early; despite all the fuss surrounding the hospital, Jarvis could plan a route. She grabbed her bleep from the ward desk, and checked her rotation. “What the fuck?” she asked herself. “How am I first on?”

“SpRs are on special training.” One gruff-voiced nurse replied. “Traffic’s built up thanks to the media around the hospital. Can hardly get the ambulances in.” The nurse shoved past her to grab a folder. “But you’d know about that, wouldn’t you, Dr Caitlyn Black, CT2?” Venom dripped from her lips as she bit out every detail.

Caitlyn stood still, staring at the nurse until she looked her in the eyes. “Yes. And you wouldn’t.”

She must have slipped, have given something away, because the nurse seemed to soften. “I’m sorry, Doctor.” She said sadly.

Caitlyn quickly left before her will gave out. Alright, maybe Tony had a point…God, not pity. Anything but pity. She went to hide in some cupboard or another, but the bleep rang out before she got the chance.

“Hello, Dr Black, First On Paediatrics.” She called down the phone line, too late recognising the number. She sighed inwardly. “You bleeped?”

“We’ve got one of yours in A+E, if the star might be so kind as to grace us with her presence.”

_Doctor Fucking Walters._

“Of course. Could you give me a little more information…” The phone cut off as she was still speaking.

This was not going to be her day.  
 

#### Part 4 – Infestation 

Tony didn’t really consider himself a worrier. He had people to do that for him. But there was something niggling at the back of his mind, telling him he was a fucking idiot. That voice had a pretty damn accurate track record.

“Jarvis?” he asked the walls. “I feel like an idiot. What’s wrong?”

_“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean, Sir.”_ Jarvis replied.

“Yeah. I’m in the same boat.” Tony shook his head, flipping aimlessly through schematics on his screens. “How’s Fury?”

_“Operation Sharp-Strike began fifteen minutes ago, Sir. Shall I contact him?”_

Tony wrestled with the thought. “No. Radio silence, Jarvis. That’s what we agreed.”

_But, fuck it._

“What the hell, put him on anyway.”

_“Tony. Why…in the hell…”_ Fury growled down the phone.

“My question exactly.” Tony replied, as fast as he could before Fury cut the call. “Why in the hell would you go to that much trouble to hide camera footage of nothing, and let your guys get caught stealing a bomb?”

_“I said he was smart, I didn’t say he wasn’t stupid too.”_

“No no, wait, hear me out; the only thing, the _one and only thing_ that Loki’s been trying to hide; it’s not _why_ , it’s _why not_. Why not, Nicky? If he wanted her, why didn’t he just take her? His whole charades thing would have been more effective if they just vanished in a puff of smoke, and appeared somewhere far away. But he didn’t. Because he can’t.”

_“What?”_ Fury’s side of the conversation was starting to buzz a little.

“God, I am a fucking genius. He didn’t take her, because he couldn’t! He can’t teleport with baggage, and your guys would have shot at him if he’d tried it the old-fashioned way. He didn’t want to risk it, so he waited…” he paused. “Nicky? You still there?”

Jarvis responded. _“Connection lost, Sir.”_

“Jarvis, who’s on detail with the Doc?”

_“Two Shield Agents; Agent Carmichael and Agent Smith.”_

“Get them. Both of them. On the phone. Now.” Tony ordered, searching more purposefully through the Shield files. 

Jarvis replied moments later. _“Agent Smith is not responding, Sir. Would you care to talk to Agent Carmichael?”_

“Yes. Now.” Then Tony found what he had been looking for: the intelligence report on Loki’s nuclear haul, and there at the bottom of the page: Agent Carmichael, chief intelligence.

_You’ve got a freaking infestation, Fury._

_“Carmichael.”_ The Agent responded.

“Hey, could you put me on with Smithy? He owes me a bet, said I couldn’t find a man who’d deep-fry his nuts for money. I’ve got a Youtube video he needs to see.”

_“Agent Smith is taking a piss, Sir.”_ Carmichael replied. _“Can it wait?”_

“Yeah, probably.” Tony said, stepping into his suit. He ended the call. “You believe that crap, Jarvis? Shield Agents will damn sure answer their cell, even if they’re balls-deep in a mission. Suit me up. It’s now.”

   


#### Part 5 – Two Minutes

Caitlyn jumped at the shadow that crossed behind her.

“Just saying, Doctor Black of North East General Hospital, that if you want to go far, you’ll have to make a sex tape.” Doctor Walters snorted. “Now you’re in the spotlight.”

She could barely contain the bile rising in her throat. “That’s an interesting suggestion, Dr Walters. I don’t think that was enteric-coated. Perhaps you should take it PR.” She smiled pleasantly at him.

He glared and stormed off.

“Did you just…” The teenager with a nail through his hand began, dropping to a whisper. “Did you just tell him to shove it up his arse?”

She smiled, saying nothing.

“Aww, I’d fucking love you if you didn’t have a pair of tweezers.” The teen grinned.

“Come on Dan, we both know that’s the midazolam talking.” She got into position. “Ready? Three, Two…” She pulled sharply.

“When was fucking _one_?” he groaned clenching his hand shut.

“If I’d got to one, it would have hurt more.” She replied, dropping the nail into a specimen pot. “And you’re lucky you don’t need tetanus. Just a fuck-ton of antibiotics.”

“Can doctors say _‘fuck-ton’_?” he laughed between winces.

Caitlyn held his fingers still as she did the wash-out. “Yes, definitely. Technical term.”

“Can I…?” he asked, indicating to his phone. “…take a picture of it?”

She shrugged. “I don’t see why not.”

The phone flashed and clicked, storing the image. “So…are you actually that Doctor who was on the telly?” he asked.

She nodded with a brief forced smile.

“Did that kid really get healed?”

“Yes.” She said reluctantly, covering the wound over. “Now you need to keep this dry…”

“But…” he interrupted her. “They’re saying, well, they were saying it’s that guy who destroyed New York.”

Her breath caught. She swore she could see him in the corner of her eye, but when she turned…nothing.

_You’re going crazy, Caitlyn._

“Well, sometimes bad people do good things.” She replied. “Usually because they want something.”

As though her bleep had sensed the moment, it rang out loudly. This time it was an unfamiliar number.

“Sorry, I’ve got to answer this.” She apologised on her frantic way to the phone. “Hello, First-On Paediatrics?”

_“Yeah, Neuro here, we’ve got one of yours kicking off. He won’t let the nurses touch him, and we need an LP.”_ In the background of the call a child screamed. _“These fucking psych-ey ones…”_ the doctors complained. _“…says the room isn’t safe. He’s covered up the mirrors and everything.”_

Caitlyn recognised it immediately. “Simon. I’ll be right up.” She rubbed her forehead. “Don’t try to restrain him, it’ll just make it worse. Just tell him I’m coming, and I want him to sit on his bed until I get there. I’m Doctor Caitlyn.”

She left A+E, apologising to nursing staff on the way. The A+E corridor led her out into the main entrance, and she climbed the stairs, past her ward, up two more flights until she got to neuro. She could hear Simon screaming from the corridor. She walked past the theatres, and buzzed to be let through into the Neuro ward. From there she followed the sound of screaming to see a distressed Simon brandishing a drip-stand.

“Simon? Do you want to tell me what’s the matter?” she smiled, taking the stand from him as he calmly released it.

“Ok.” He replied.

The burly nurses tutted amongst themselves as they left.

“They put me in the wrong bed, Dr Caitlyn.” Simon said, wrapping his arms around himself. “And it had mirrors, and I can’t see the hall from here.”

“Well, that hasn’t bothered you this much before. Remember when you were getting your chemo the other week, and you had to go to ward 17?” she sat on the bed beside him. “And besides, there must be a reason they put you in this ward.”

He nodded. “I said I was shaking.”

“Were you shaking?” she asked. “It’s ok Simon. I’m not angry.”

He shook his head, tears brimming in his eyes. “There’s something bad, Doctor Caitlyn. And you were scared.”

“Simon, I…” she didn’t know quite what to say.

For what must have been the tenth time that day, her bleeper interrupted. This time the message was from…the entrance hall?

“I’m sorry, Simon. I have to get this.”

He stared at her like she had said she was going to jump off a cliff

“Simon. It’ll be ok. I’ll tell the other doctors what happened, and you can come back to my ward.” She smiled, trying to silence the screeching bleep. The button had stuck, again. She left Simon’s room and went to the storage cupboard, rummaging around for a needle narrow enough to unjam the button. 

It was one shambles of a storage cupboard, with the surgical overflow filling at least half of it. Outdated equipment, surgical hats in all shapes and sizes…but she found the slender yellow needles, and unpicked the button. The bleep stopped, and she was grateful for the peace. She went to the cupboard phone and answered the call.

“Hello, First-On Paediatrics.” She sighed.

The voice that replied made her blood run cold. _“Hello Caitlyn.”_ Loki purred. _“You have two minutes.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise, something will actually happen in the next chapter!
> 
> As always, I love you guys for reading.
> 
> Without you I probably would have given up a long time ago.
> 
> Please let me know what you think. :)
> 
> x Pinch


	34. The Fight and Fall

### Chapter 34 – The Fight and Fall

#### Part 1 – The Last Weapon

Caitlyn’s jaw trembled. She slipped slowly to the floor, still gripping a hold of the phone. She heard the click as Loki replaced his handset, then the dial tone. Her one thought, her first solitary thought, accompanied by a steady creeping nausea was; _‘Who’s going to cover my shift?’_

She started to smile, then to laugh, at the utter stupidity of her priorities. Despite it all, tears of laughter began to gather along the brim of her eyelids. She was effectively being kidnapped by a mass murderer with supernatural powers, and she was worried about her fucking shift… She sighed, and wiped her closed eyes.

Caitlyn remembered herself, bringing her thoughts back into focus. Her hand dove into her bag, searching out the MP3 player with Stark’s panic button; instead finding Loki’s watch. Her heart sank. She stared at the watch, feeling its solid form in her hands, hearing every second tick away at such unnaturally rapid speeds. _He had known. He had put the watch there because he had known all along. He had known every move, every trick they had planned to keep her safe, and had let her believe that…_

_No._

Fuck that. Fuck being a victim, and fuck walking to her own slaughter. He might think himself a God, and he might even have the power to back it up, but that didn’t mean she had to make it easy for him.

_‘You have two minutes.’_ he had said.

She exhaled slowly, savouring the seconds she took. He had tried to frighten her. He had tried to force her into some cold, dark corner where _he_ was the only way out…but there was something he hadn’t taken from her. One factor that a man like him never thought to consider.

She smiled, and rose to her feet.

After almost a decade of training, Doctor Caitlyn Black was very fucking good in a crisis.

And two minutes? She could do a hell of a lot in two minutes.  
 

#### Part 2 – The Slow Seconds

Loki stared at the large clock in the entrance hallway. Only thirty seconds had passed, but after weeks of waiting, it felt so much slower. He drummed his fingers impatiently against the wall, keeping time with each tick of the clock…not much longer now.

He imagined her; distraught, perhaps red-eyed, trembling as she walked to him, but she would endeavour to hide it well. Such was her pride. He would allow her that, for the meanwhile. Eventually her will would fail, and she would admit the truth in her actions. She would drop all pretences, and Caitlyn would become as willing a consort as ever there was. All that was needed was time…

The phone in his jacket began to buzz. “Yes?” he snapped.

_“Stark’s on the move. Satellite picked him up. He’s on his way to you now. ETA under six minutes.”_ Agent Hart reported.

_“Qlfuss oflati!”_ Loki swore under his breath, fingers denting inferior Midgard masonry. He paused, and gazed around him. Although his illusionary façade still held, he was beginning to garner attention. He spoke quietly, but with firm purpose. “Make them ready. Arm the weapon.”

_“Yes, Sir.”_

He would not be kept from her. Not by any mortal will. _By the nine_ he would not have Stark stand in his way! She would come, and Loki would have her…

…and yet, he had expected her to appear by now.

   


#### Part 3 – From Four Floors Up

Caitlyn pocketed the syringe. Haloperidol: she had hit the jackpot. She straightened the surgical mask that draped over her face, before pulling on a blue theatre hat. The sterile gown hung almost to her feet, and hid most of her clothing. She just had to hope whoever was out there wasn’t too concerned with her shoes. She grabbed her bleep and her emergency alarm.

A distraction; that was all she needed.

She glanced to the watch: thirty seconds, give or take. _More than enough._ She wove the watch chain through the alarm cord and onto the bleep, three times around, binding them together. She carefully draped them in the corner, hanging over the metal rail of one of the shelves. It would take maybe ten seconds of her bleep vibrating before the emergency alarm cord was pulled free. She keyed in the code on the hospital phone, grabbed a piece of outdated surgical equipment, then pressed the confirmation key.

_“Your paging request has been authorised.”_ The bored machine informed her.

She left, just as the bleep began. She walked with confident presence, striding towards the locked door. She stopped as she saw the Shield Agent, who was staring intently down the corridor. His eyes briefly flicked to her, away, and then back. “Excuse me.” She barked in a gruff voice.

He squinted a little, trying to place her, to recognise her beneath the surgical gear. Luckily that was the moment the alarm went off, screeching wildly, and the Agent tore down the corridor after it.

In the chaos, Caitlyn managed to slip through the doorway. She glanced over the glass balcony, down into the entrance hall. She couldn’t make out his face, but she knew Loki would be there. And sure enough, amid the frantic crowd, there was one solitary figure remaining very still. And she could swear that he was staring straight at her…

She doubled her pace, virtually running. She couldn’t take the stairs down; he would definitely have seen past the disguise. Instead, she turned right, into theatres reception.

“Miss! I can’t let you go in without ID verification! We’re on lockdown!” the man on reception shouted at her as she pushed against the security doors.

“Look, if you want to be the one to tell Mr Stone why he can’t have _his_ cranioclast, be my guest!” she glared at him until he hesitatingly unlocked the doors. “Thank you.” She nodded, walked through and into main theatres.

The security alarms were still blaring, but it seemed that theatres were on as normal.

“Sir!” the man on reception called behind her. “Sir, you can’t go in there!”

She didn’t dare turn around. She just kept going, heading for the back staircase.

_Don’t turn around. Don’t stop. Don’t look at him. You’ve already bought two more minutes. Don’t stop now._

_“Sir!”_

She could still hear him. She heard as he cried out. She heard as something heavy smacked against the wall. As she reached the staircase, the explosive sound of splintering wood and shattering glass followed.

In a last-ditch attempt, she tore off the surgical gear, and threw it down the stairs, in the hopes Loki would follow. At least she could run faster without them on.

More shouting, some screams, sirens, violent sounds…

She made it to the roof. A bitterly cold wind chilled her, whipping between the small storage sheds surrounding the helipad. Afternoon had quickly spread to evening, sickly pinks hanging low in the sky, still casting enough light for any figure to be seen.

She heard footsteps behind her, calmly ascending the stairs.

In the corner: the oxygen cylinders. She made a run for it. She reached them, just as the door swung open. She grabbed the nearest cylinder and twisted it. “Stay the fuck back!” she yelled.

“Caitlyn.” Loki tutted. “You are making this far more dramatic than it needs to be.” He advanced slowly.

“I said: _stay the fuck back_!” she retreated towards the edge of the roof, dragging the cylinder with her. “See this? Oxygen. Very. Fucking. Flammable.”

He continued, now glancing to the tool in her other hand.

“And this? This is a cranioclast. This one was discontinued after it set two fires in the OR. Sparked right up after three or four uses.” She held it to the nozzle of the dispersing oxygen.

That stopped him in his tracks.

“You stay the hell away from me, Loki, or I swear to God I will light up the roof of this _very_ badly designed hospital.” She hoped he couldn’t hear the tremor in her voice.

He shook his head, smiling. “Caitlyn.” The wind shook his perfectly styled hair. “Come now. We both know you would not.” But he didn’t move. Not one inch.

“Really?” she asked. “Because from here it looks like I might.”

“You would not endanger the lives of all those people…” he indicated to the swarming numbers who fled from the doors below “…simply for your professed hatred of me.”

“We’re four floors up. I doubt they’d even notice the fire.”

“Caitlyn!” he barked, before switching to a slick smile. “ _Caitlyn_. Come now. I have little patience for this. You may rest safe in the knowledge that you have _resisted_ me, even _bested_ me for a short time. I am sure all who hear of your deeds will be suitably impressed. Now. Come with me.” He offered his palm to her.

Her hand stiffened, fighting against her will. Her last ounce of self-preservation gripped her tightly, refusing to let her spark up the oxygen. She couldn’t…she wouldn’t be his plaything, love, or whatever else he might call it. She was no angel, but that didn’t mean she’d side with the devil. Then she saw something, something deep behind his plastered smile…or rather, above it.

There it was; that small twinkling light which hung too low for a plane, and moved too fast to be a helicopter.

She smiled. “Tony Sta…” An arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders, the weight pulling her backwards, down, hurtling off the side of the building. They fell, flying past windows, racing towards the ground. She barely had time to scream before Loki released her and caught her again.

He held her tightly in his arms. “I apologise.” He whispered. “But you left me no other choice.”

The men who must have been his guards appeared from either side.

Loki set her gently on her feet. “Take her.” He ordered the men. He withdrew the familiar pen from his pocket, and in his hand it transformed into a golden sceptre. “I shall deal with Stark.”

Even as the men dragged her away, she swore she could see Loki grin at the glinting figure approaching on the horizon. 

 

#### Part 4 – The Fight and Fall

Tony set down just as Loki was on another one of his speeches. It was all too familiar: the kneeling crowd, the posturing dude with the magic stick. Jarvis helped out with the audio.

Loki smiled at the kneeling, trembling masses. “Your dying world is coming to its end. And your pathetic race that lies and destroys itself to be the last survivors in a world of cold and ash; that is what is ending it. The illusion of freedom that you strive for only kills you faster, it makes you brutal, merciless and pushes you to do worse, and to be worse; to be the last rats alive on the sinking ship. That is why you must be controlled, you must be guided, and those who disobey must be punished, most severely. Without control you turn into such vile things, and only the vilest can survive.” He stopped for a moment, to look into the eyes of a kid who didn’t bow his head like the rest.

“Why?” The kid asked.

“Oh, am I not merciful?” Loki asked in return. “Am I not kind? Do I not hear your suffering and seek to end it? Others have seen you and simply let you pass into the night, but I come to free you from yourselves. I come to save you from the hells that you create!” His voice raised at the sound of Iron Man’s approaching engines.

Tony smirked, flicking his helmet down so Loki could see the defiance in his face. “No, I’m pretty sure you come to make a throne of skulls and bones and make sure everyone knows you have the biggest stick in the galaxy. If you’ll pardon the…metaphor.” he paused. “And yes, I realise how ironic that sounds, coming from me.”

The crowd scattered around them, clearing the scene for an impending superhero take-down.

“Where’s the Doc?” Tony asked as Jarvis located her.

“I did not come to fight with you Stark.” Loki sneered “I came to claim what is mine.” He slowly circled around Tony like a hunting wolf.

“Yeah, it really doesn’t look like she wants to go with you.” Tony said, identifying the two figures who pulled at her arms.

Loki drew a pained smile. “She will change her mind.”

Tony refused to turn, to even give him the privilege of eye contact. “Spoken like a true Viking. Well, that doesn’t matter to me. See, I have a new policy: anything Loki wants, Loki doesn’t get. And, hi, yes, this applies to her. Hell, this would even apply to a sandwich.”

“You are making a mistake, Mr Stark. You have no idea what I am capable of.” The demi-god’s voice threatened.

“What _you’re_ capable of? Dude, I’m made of fucking rockets! Ok? And in, I’d say all of ten minutes, Shield’s taskforce is gonna rain down hellfire just because you dared to show up. So, come on, just step up and get your ass handed to you, because this little speech thing: bores me.”

“Go!” Loki shouted to his henchmen, gold horns appearing as his armour shimmered into vision. “Mister Stark and I have business to deal with.”

“Hey, this isn’t even my final form!” Stark smirked, helmet closing, and he became Iron Man once more. Two rows of small rocket launchers and machine turrets emerged from his shoulders, laser sighting focusing on the space between Loki’s eyes. “Let’s dance, Princess.” He was less optimistic as Loki’s illusion took form; multiple Lokis, encircling him, all grinning. “Jarvis, we got that IR, heatsig?” he asked as the laser sighting began to flicker between groups of five Lokis at a time.

_“Something’s blocking my sensors, Sir. None of them are showing any heat signature.”_

“Just beautiful.”

At once, all the Lokis charged.

“And up we go!” Tony rose into the air using his blasters. “Shoot ‘em all Jarvis.” The machine turrets on his shoulders began to fire against the wall of Lokis; all jumping into the air to attack. Bullets wouldn’t stop Loki, but then again, that wasn’t what Tony was counting on. There it was: the Loki the bullets were bouncing off. The real Loki. Tony swerved to the side to avoid the swing of that giant metal staff. The end of the stick planted in the ground, and Loki swung around on it, planting a powerful two-footed kick on Tony’s metal chest plate, sending him careering backwards. _Damn demi-god moved around like a howler monkey._ Tony steadied himself and aimed a rocket at Loki, who flipped into the air, narrowly avoiding its blast.

“Your weapons are slow, Stark!” Loki shouted.

“Yeah…” Stark mused as a cascade of explosions followed, knocking Loki off his feet. “That’s one of my little Jerichos right there. Pocket-size. Have another.” He shot a second.

It detonated inches from Loki, and the secondary missiles exploded all around as he jumped to escape the blaze. His face appeared amid the smoke, hair out of place and a small cut on his cheek.

“Gods don’t bleed, Loki.”

Loki wiped the blood from his face, the wound rapidly healing, and he sucked the blood off his thumb.

Tony shuddered. This guy was all kinds of messed-up. 

_“Stark, you were right.”_ Nick Fury echoed in his headset. _“Loki’s not here. The whole place has been empty for weeks.”_

“No shit. I’m looking right at him.” Tony called, shooting Loki back with one of his hand blasters. “Crap. Gotta go. Jarvis is sending you my coordinates.”

“Why must you meddle in affairs that do not concern you?” Loki menaced, disappearing and reappearing in a circle around him.

Tony followed him with his blaster “Hey man, like Fury said…” He shot as soon as Loki reappeared. “It’s all my homeland.” The secondary explosion hit Loki as he tried to outrun it. “So don’t mess with my homies!” He stared ahead, smirking inside his helmet “Who’s slow now?” The illusion of Loki shimmered within the pit, and Tony felt himself being thrown backwards, colliding with, and crumpling, an empty ambulance. “Damn. Shouldn’t have fallen for that one. Jarvis: if you could tell those guys to get their asses in gear, that would be great.”

Loki tore him from the wreckage, scraping metal against metal, clasping his throat. He drove the iron suit into the ground, crushing him. Tony blasted back against the ground, tearing himself from it and throwing Loki back. Tony overshot and did a forward-flip, frantically stopping himself with a reverse blast. He floated little more than a foot above ground, scanning for Loki with rocket-gauntlets raised.

He jolted sideways as Loki struck him with the staff. His blasters ground him to a halt. _Damn, Loki should take up baseball; the Mets might actually win for once._

“Jarvis, you reading an energy-sig from that magic stick of his?” Tony asked the suit, still searching for the next attack.

_“Yes, sir; a rather unusual form of radiation is emitting from the core.”_ Jarvis reported.

“Yeah. Target that, but about half a foot to the right.” He waited for it to display on his screen. “We got an ETA on Shield?”

_“Under twenty minutes, Sir.”_

“Shit, that’s not gonna cut it.” He swore. “Alright, find me the Doc. We’re going rescue.” He began to soar into the air.

“Do you run from me, Iron Man?!” Loki sneered, shouting up to Stark. “Do you believe I will not find you? Do you think that I will not make you suffer?!” And then he vanished.

_Shit, where’d the bastard go?_ “Jarvis? You see him?”

Loki fell from above, crashing into Tony’s back. Loki held the staff across Tony’s neck, where the armour had been broken. Tony felt his windpipe being slowly crushed from the force of it. He blasted backwards with his hands, creating a swirling backflip to shake Loki off. The guy just vanished into thin air.

Jarvis wasn’t picking up anything on the sensors, but he had located the Doc.

Tony cut a zig-zag path, just in case ol’ spooky pants was planning on getting the drop on him again. He found the car: black and fake plates. This disappearance was meant to stick. “Hang on Doc, I’m gonna get you outta there.” He muttered.

_“Loki approaching…”_ Jarvis beamed, like he’d done a good job.

Loki jumped out of the sky, and bent Tony’s blasters down, to take them both up into the air.

Tony tried to free his hands, but his suit’s strength at most matched that of Loki. “You do realise, Princess, that this suit works in space? Trial run and everything. I bet you need oxygen a teensy tiny little bit.” Tony snarked as they soared into the air.

Jarvis beeped as graphs popped up on the screen. _“Sir, sensors are picking up a missile headed towards you.”_ It came from the window of the car, and was climbing pretty quick.

“Shoot it then!” Tony yelled.

The missile approached closer and closer, narrowing the gap as both Tony and his kamikaze passenger soared. Tony’s countering shots ricocheted off the shell, finally splitting it.

_“Sir, I…”_ Jarvis fizzed as the explosion’s shockwave passed.

Loki tore open Tony’s mask. “Safe landing, Mr Stark.” He grinned.

The suit was failing, everything switching off. Hell, even his chest plate was buzzing a little. Loki was gone. Tony was falling. He saw the ground fast approaching.

This was gonna hurt.

   


#### Part 5 – A Kiss Goodnight

Loki approached the fallen man; bloodied and broken, his armour shattered. His eyes were shut.

“Tony!” Caitlyn called, running to him. She had managed to escape the nearby vehicle by some means. Loki allowed her to pass. She knelt beside the inventor. “Tony? Can you hear me?” she brought her ear to the man’s face. “He’s still breathing…!”

“Stand aside.” Loki commanded, pointing the staff at Stark’s head.

She stared at him in horror. “No.”

“Stand aside.” He repeated.

She rose to her feet, but remained between him and Stark. “Loki!”

His henchmen approached, but he bid them to remain still. “Stand aside, Caitlyn.”

She walked to him, something overtaking the fear in her eyes. Walking as if to her fate…And she pressed her lips to his. At once he felt all of the overwhelming longing, the warmth, the taste of her, the feel as he held her in his arms. She lifted the staff, and held his hand still. He couldn’t fight her any more than he could stop her kiss. There was pain, and sorrow, but he knew…something of love in it too. Her free hand ran across his cheek, across the bare skin unprotected by his helmet, and he felt with that simple touch she might burn him away.

“Please, Loki.” She whispered. “Please.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I say you'll be getting an exciting chapter, I mean it!
> 
> As always, thanks for reading, and feel free to comment. :)
> 
> Old Norse cursing was found on this website: http://www.housebarra.com/EP/ep04/12norsecurse.html
> 
>  
> 
> I think you know, this is nowhere near the end of the story.
> 
> x Pinch
> 
> PS Continued as 'The Kindest Curse' - Part 2 of The Fall of the Fourth God


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